Bad Company
by Cygolino
Summary: A bit over 60 years after the end of the Reapers Shepard's asari daughter sets out on a adventure of her own as she joins the alliance. Gona borrow some of the characters from Battlefield Bad Company. Rated M for violence and language.
1. Prologue

_Hi everyone. I've been hanging around here for a while but this is my first attempt at writing a fic of my own. Reviews would be appreciated :)_

_Disclaimer. The Mass Effect universe belongs to Bioware. Haggard, Sweetwater and Marlowe belong to DICE and EA owns them all! or something like that anyway ;)_

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It was almost noon when Cyra Shepard dragged herself out of her bed, a mild hangover reminding her why she usually limited her drinking. The young asari sat on the edge of her bed for a moment rubbing her aching forehead before she grabbed a bathrobe from her wardrobe and stumbled out of her bedroom looking for some pain killers. When she entered the kitchen her sister Ashley looked up from the datapad she'd been reading. "Good morning sis!" she greeted her, grinning from ear to ear "had a late night hm?". Cyra made a face "How did you figure that out miss obvious?" she replied trying to ignore her sister's amused chuckle as she made her way to the small medicine cabinet on the other side of the room. "Didn't you promise not to drink that much again after your birthday party last month?" Ashley asked smugly while Cyra was rummaging through the cabinet. "Maybe" She threw two pills in a glass and filled it with water before facing her younger sibling "but didn't YOU say you'd remind me of that promise?". "As if that would have made a difference!" Ashley snorted waving her hand dismissively before she resumed reading the data pad.

Cyra checked her glass of water to make sure the pills had dissolved completely, emptied it in one go and sat down at the small kitchen table massaging her temples. In many respects Ashley, the second of four children that sprang from the union of Marcus and Shiala Shepard, was the exact opposite of herself. Cyra was tall and athletic, excelled in sports and loved working on her biotics with her mother but she always had to be pushed to study or doing anything indoors for that matter.

Ashley on the other hand was short and petite, a classical bookworm she seemed to study all the time. Always reading some data pad or sticking her nose in one of those old real paper books Dad loved so much.

"What are you reading anyway?" Cyra asked after a failed attempt to snatch the data pad out of her sister's hands. "Too slow drunkard, too slow." Ash grinned keeping the pad out of her reach. „Hey I am not a drunkard!" Cyra growled. "I got the right to party a bit on my 60th birthday dont I? And last nights celebrations were just too good to pass on. Which you'd know if you'd been there."

"I WAS there!" Ashley protested. "Yes of course! And then left right after the fireworks didn't you? Went back home to 'hang around' with your extranet cronies hm?"."Pffft! At least I didn't have to use our Skycar's Autopilot to get back home." Ash exclaimed sticking out her tongue.

"Whatever." Cyra sighed. She wasnt really in the mood for a lengthy debate. Why somebody would pass on celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Virmire colony to surf on the extranet was beyond her anyway. Suppressing a yawn she rose from the table and went back to her room. For a moment she was tempted to skip her daily run and take a cold shower instead. But then she put on a simple white t-shirt, white shorts and ran her usual 2 kilometers along the shores of lake Verne. The clean, fresh air had a revitalizing effect and the shower afterwards seemed to wash away the last remnants of her headache. Feeling a lot better she put on proper clothing and went looking for her parents.

Cyra found her father fast asleep on the sofa in the living room snoring softly. The way he looked she figured he'd had a long night as well and probably fallen asleep in front of the Vid-Screen after breakfast. Even at almost one-hundred years of age Marcus Shepard was still an impressive member of the human species. He kept himself in shape, was fitter than most humans one third his age, and as a consequence showed few signs of ageing other than his silver grey hair. She let him sleep for the moment and thought about what she'd wanted to tell her parents for a while now. The asari maiden wandered absently over to the large panoramic window and gazed out on Virmire City's impressive Skyline. She'd been playing with the idea to join the alliance for years, but reached the decision only a few days ago after reading a report about attacks on several frontier colonies. Asari serving in the alliance were nothing unusual these days. All kinds of conspiracy theories had been discussed in bars and pubs on Earth when the first were allowed to join roughly forty years ago. Those discussions had quieted down over the years although there still were circles in human society that, often rather loudly, opposed the idea of aliens serving in the alliance forces.

"Hey kid." Cyra turned around to see her father rising from the sofa with a groan. "Morning dad. Had a late night?" she asked with a smirk. "Nah not that late" he answered shaking his head. "Your mother and I returned home long before you did. I guess I am just not used to party like that any more". The young asari bit her lower lip, thinking about how to break the news to her father. " Is something bothering you precious?". Cyra chuckled nervously."Oh please dad stop calling me like that.". "Sometimes I just can't help it." he said with a mischievous smile. "Come on what's wrong?" he asked, serious this time. " Has it something to do with the offer you got from that professional skyball team? What were they called again? 'Serrice Queens'? ". "I... no not really. I... where's mom anyway?" Cyra said taking a deep breath. _Why am I so nervous?_ She wondered briefly. "She had to go to one of Sirta's southern Research Labs. Apparently there was some sort of mishap and they sent Shiala to sort it out." he said. He took a step towards her and gently taped her on the shoulder. "Come on, what's wrong?" her father asked again looking in her eyes. The asari maiden broke eye contact for a second and took an other deep breath. "I... I am going to join the alliance!" she blurted out at last. "I know you were terribly excited when I got the offer from the queens" Cyra hastily added when she saw his eyebrows rise. "But...but I don't feel like being a professional sportswoman and with all those pirate and slaver attacks on border colonies I just felt like it was the right thing to do, you know, fighting the good fight and all that and I hope you're not too disappointed and..." her voice trailed off when her father put an arm around her shoulders. "Shhh! Slow down girl." he said giving her a gentle squeeze. "What makes you think I'd be disappointed?". "Well, I thought..." she began. "...I'd prefer a Skyball player to a Soldier?" he finished the sentence. "Cyra it's your life. It's your life and you're old enough. Do what you think is best for you. How I feel about it is secondary." He continued before she could object "Sure, I would have been proud if my oldest daughter was a rich and famous Skyball star but I will be equally proud if you serve in the alliance." He paused for a second. "You'll have my support whatever you choose to do, well except if you choose to be the new pirate queen of omega or something like that." he grinned.

Cyra felt as if a big weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. "Thanks dad!" she smiled brightly. "Don't thank me too soon. Military life isn't what the vids and the recruiters make it out to be." her father said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Often its quite boring and you're hoping for a bit of excitement. And when things DO get exciting you often wish the boredom back. Besides you still have to tell your mother about this." he said with a smirk. The young asari's smile vanished. "Oh!" she exclaimed as the corners of her mouth went south. "Do you think she'll understand? I mean she won't be too upset or?" "I don't know, I imagine she won't be thrilled but I don't think she'll object seriously." he said caressing her back with a reassuring smile. Her stomach growled reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything today. Her dad snickered, planted a kiss on her forehead and gently pushed her towards the kitchen. "Go get something to eat, then we'll think about, how to tell your mom."

After Cyra had left the room Marcus Shepard's smile vanished abruptly. He turned around staring out the window with a heavy sigh. His oldest daughter was still so innocent and idealistic, naïve even. A part of him wanted to lock her up in some sort of ivory tower to shelter her from the universe. Of course she knew that the galaxy could be a very dangerous, sometimes cruel place. But to watch a news cast about a slaver attack on some distant colony world was one thing, he knew only too well that experiencing it first hand was an other. She was bound to find that out herself sooner or later, there was nothing he could do about it. And so one of the galaxy's greatest heroes continued to stare out the window for a long time hoping the universe wouldn't be too hard on his beloved daughter.


	2. Chapter 1

Only a few days after Cyra told her parents about her decision to join the alliance, on Earth, almost on the other side of the galaxy, a black skycar limousine pulled up to the one of the finest and most expensive Sanatoria on the planet. The driver skilfully drove the vehicle into one of the parking slots on the roof of the main building, let the craft hover for moment before he set it down, shutting off the engine. As the hum of the engine slowly quieted down the driver stepped out from his seat, and opened the back door for his employer. A dark haired human male in his late thirties, dressed in an expensive looking dark grey suit emerged from the back of the limousine, taking a few deep breaths of the cold, clean air as he removed his sunglasses, revealing cold blue eyes. His name was Nicholas Fisher. Only a few days ago he'd been appointed the new director of alliance intelligence, by far the youngest to fill that position since the alliance was founded just over a hundred years ago.

He dismissed his driver with a brief nod and took a moment to admire the gorgeous mountain landscape before he made his way over to the two nurses waiting for him in front of the elevator.

"Good morning, Mister Fisher." the older of them greeted him with a kind smile. "Good morning to you too Angela." he returned the greeting with a small bow. "How is she today?" he asked, getting right to the point. He wasn't in the mood for small talk today, he rarely was. "Same as always I am afraid, no change whatsoever. Neither for better nor for worse." the experienced nurse said sadly as they entered the elevator. They rode the elevator down in silence its transparent walls offering an overview of the daily routine on the different floors of the medical centre.

After exiting the elevator nurse Angela turned to the visitor. "If you would excuse me now, I need to take care of a few things. Monica will show you the way." she said putting her hand on the younger woman's shoulder. For a moment Nicholas Fisher wanted to send the blonde nurse away, after all he'd made monthly visits to that same patient for more than 18 years and knew his way around the sanatorium. He decided against it however. The girl was pleasing enough to look at and he knew he from experience he could use something to cheer him up. He followed the nurse through the corridors of the facility in silence until they reached a door in the department treating the mentally handicapped.

"Here we are Sir." Monica said. She moved to open the door but he held her back. "Thank you Monica, but I'd like to be alone with her if you don't mind." The nurse hesitated for a moment. "As you wish Sir." she answered with a polite nod. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me or any of the other nurses." "Of course." he said with a charming smile, letting his eyes briefly wander over her shapely figure as she walked away. He stared at the door for a moment, knowing it would break his heart to enter, but it would also strengthen his resolve. He took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside.

She sat, almost motionless, in a wheelchair staring out of the room's large window. "Hello Amy." he said softly as he slowly walked towards her. Her head turned towards him so slightly, he couldn't tell whether she reacted to his greeting or if it was just a random movement. Although he'd visited her dozens of times he still had to fight to maintain his composure when he looked at her face. Irreparable brain damage had twisted her once lovely features into a grotesque mask. A single tear ran down his cheek as he knelt down besides her. Amy had been a pretty, lively and intelligent young woman until on a faithful day, almost two decades ago, she got turned into a shadow, a twisted caricature of her former self.

"I don't have much time." he began after struggling with his words for a moment. "My assistant's been getting on my nerves the last couple of days with his whining about how much there was to do and how little time we had". He paused for a second. "I got promoted recently." he added with a forced smile. "For almost twenty years I worked like a madman and now I am finally in a position to get back at the scumbag who did this to you." Amy continued to stare blankly out the window. There was no indication she'd understood a single word of what he'd just said. He knelt besides her in silence for a few minutes. "I probably won't be able to visit you in the next couple of years." he finally went on. "Maybe I won't be able to come back ever again. But whatever happens he'll pay, I promise!" he said getting back on his feet. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Farewell Amy, I love you!". He looked at her one last time before he walked to the door, almost bumping into nurse Monica as he stepped outside. "Take good care of her." he said not even waiting for an answer before he made his way back to the elevator in a hurry. Back on the roof he let his gaze wander around briefly. "Lets get to it." he whispered as he strode towards the limousine, his face cold and hard.

* * *

_**2 years later**_

"Pre-flight checks are complete, all personnel aboard. We're ready to go Captain." Commander Candela T'Cel reported after checking the holographic displays again. "Thank you Commander." Captain Richard Heisenberg ,a tough looking grey haired man in his late fifties, said walking up to the pilot seat. "She's all yours mister Mitchell, take her out!". "Aye aye Captain" the pilot said with an eager smile. He checked the standard departure procedures for Arcturus station one more time before activating the radio.

"Arcturus control, SSV Wake Island, docking bay alpha one-six ready for departure. Requesting clearance to proceed to Arcturus prime relay after clearing docking ring."

"Wake Island proceed to Arcturus relay via outbound route two, you're cleared to undock. Report leaving the inner control zone."

"Cleared to undock, will report. Wake Island out."

"Releasing docking clamps." Mitchell announced. Slight vibrations could be felt throughout the ship as it's engines came to life. The four hundred meter vessel started to glide slowly backwards out of the docking bay. "Speed now 35 meters per second, clearing the Dock in 15." The pilot used the holographic controls for a minute heading correction, the orange interface turning green where his fingers touched it. After passing the enormous doors of the space dock he turned the sleek warship around before engaging its main engines, increasing power as they got farther away from the station.

"Arcturus Control, Wake Island, leaving inner control zone now."

"Copy that Wake Island, be advised there is a live firing exercise in progress bearing one-six-five mark zero-three-zero. Stay clear."

"Roger that Arcturus. Have a nice Day!"

Flight lieutenant Pete Mitchell frowned. "Why is he telling me this?" He wondered aloud."Our flight path won't even take us close anyway." The captain smiled thinly. "The traffic controllers are required to remind all ship of live firing exercises. If I am not mistaken they put very strict regulations in place after an accident a few decades ago." He briefly put his hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Anyway, good job getting us out of the dock lieutenant, nice and smooth." The captain activated the intercom for a Ship wide broadcast. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. To all those who joined us at Arcturus Station: Welcome aboard. The Wake Island is now officially on her first tour of duty. Take good care of her and she'll take good care of us!" Heisenberg deactivated the intercom. "Speaking of Duty, I'll have to go and see what our new intelligence officer has to show me that's so damned urgent." he said turning to his executive officer. "The bridge is yours commander."

* * *

A few decks below the bridge, in one of the cabins reserved for the ship's special forces teams, private first class George Gordon Haggard burst into laughter when he heard the captain's announcement. "Oh man I fucking love our Captain, seriously!" he exclaimed. "Short 'n' Sweet! No grand speeches about how this is the best ship and the best crew, about how we need to do our part to protect mankind and all that. Just 'Take good care of her and she'll take good care of us' Whoosh! Period!"

On the opposite side of the small table corporal Preston Marlowe was shuffling a deck of cards. "Yeah the old man ain't the talkative type." he chuckled dealing two cards each, Haggard got a queen and a six and Marlowe..."Black Jack again?" the pfc protested. "You got a second deck up your sleeves or something?" "Of course!" Marlowe grinned broadly. "And an other behind my ears." Haggard made a face. "Very funny dude. Give me the cards I'll deal now ." he said holding out his hand. "There you go."Marlowe said giving him the cards. "But if your luck suddenly improves I'm gona have to check your sleeves for an additional deck."

"Sure man. You may find something explosive instead of cards there though." Haggard said as he began to shuffle. "What do you think we'll...oh for fuck's sake!" he yelled as Marlowe got Black Jack again. "Something tells me your luck hasn't improved." the corporal said laughing loudly.

"Ha-Ha! Screw this!" Haggard said as he put down the cards on the table hard. "I am gona get me a little nap." he added as he lay down on his bunk. Marlowe, still chuckling, went over to his locker and took out a data pad before he sat down on his own bunk.

"What do you think we'll get?" Haggard asked staring at the ceiling.

"You mean as our new team leader?"

"Yep."

"No idea." Marlow replied with a shrug trying to concentrate on his data pad. "We'll know soon enough."

"Weren't you on watch outside the main airlock yesterday? Didn't you see anything?"

Marlowe put down the pad with a sigh."There were a lot of new guys coming in during my watch. How am I supposed to know if one of them was our new leader?"

"A lot of new guys hm?" Haggard grinned. "Mostly eager, fresh-faced greenhorns straight outta basic training I bet."

"Mostly." the corporal confirmed. "But there were enough vets among them. Quite a few asari too."

Haggard frowned. "Bah! They should have never allowed those blue chicks to join the alliance forces." the pfc growled. "Says the guy with several issues of Fornax hidden in his locker!" Marlowe replied with a smirk. "Well er...yes, they are nice enough to look at, but that doesn't mean I'd like to have one of them watching my back in combat." Haggard said his face reddening. "But seriously, why can't they just join their own navy? What do they get out of joining the alliance?"

"No idea", Marlowe grinned. "Why don't you just ask our XO?"

"Hard Candy? No thank you!" Haggard exclaimed. "My arms still hurt from all those push-ups that bitch had me doin'!"

"Come on Hags!" Marlowe laughed. "If anything you were lucky that the captain wasn't in the CIC when you detonated that flash-bang. I bet Heisenberg would have come up with something worse than a hundred push-ups at double gravity."

"Ah that was just too good an opportunity to pass on!" Haggard replied laughing until he cried. "I mean, what were they thinking letting me guard the CIC during a Combat drill! You shoulda seen their faces!"

"Anyway." He continued after wiping away his tears of laughter. "I plan to stay as far away from her as humanly possible."

"I think Mitchell is quite fond of her."

"I am sure he is, damned little would-be womanizer."

"Oi! You sound jealous!"

"Oh fuck off!"

* * *

About twenty minutes later the door to the cabin opened with a hiss as private Terrence Sweetwater, the third member of special operations team Bravo entered. "Hey Sweets." Haggard greeted the boyish tech specialist from his bunk. "Found out anything?"

"Only that we're getting an N7 lieutenant." Sweetwater replied, a little embarrassed that he hadn't been able to find more. "Is that it?" Haggard asked raising his eyebrows. "Come on Sweets what happened to your hacking prowess?"

"Hey I had to be careful. I don't wanna get caught hacking the system again, all right?"

"What are you worried about?" Haggard wondered. "Its not like they can demote you any more."

"Yeah but I don't want to...aten-HUT!" Haggard, Marlowe and Sweetwater jumped to their feet as the door opened again revealing the ship's captain.

"At ease." the captain said with a nod. Haggard couldn't help but stare at the tall, armor-clad asari standing beside the captain. He started to feel queasy when he noticed the N7 sign on her left breast.

"Gentlemen meet your new team leader." captain Heisenberg continued, putting a hand upon her shoulder. "Lieutenant Cyra Sheppard!" Haggard was so shocked, he couldn't even muster a short "ma'am" as the asari greeted them. Fortunately the captain went on before she could notice. "I am afraid we don't have time for a proper introduction." he said. "We have a situation developing that could use your expertise. Suit-up and report to the briefing room in twenty."

"Aye aye Sir!"

"Well let's get to it." Marlowe said after the officers had left. "I think you can close your mouth now Hags." Haggard glared at him for a second.

"We're screwed!"


	3. Chapter 2

N7 lieutenant Cyra Shepard shifted in her seat, absently rubbing the back of her neck as she let her gaze wander around the Wake Island's briefing room. It reminded her a bit of a scaled down lecture hall. Several rows of seats, the ones in the back slightly elevated, were arranged in a semi-circle around the large holo-screen where the captain and the intelligence officer softly discussed some last details about the mission. Cyra fought hard to keep her hands from wandering around and her breathing under control as the rest of Bravo Team entered the room. Under no circumstances she wanted her men to notice how nervous she was. As they sat down beside her, she thought about what she knew of them. She had been surprised to learn that neither Haggard nor Sweetwater had had special forces training but had been transferred due to their special skills.

Haggard, who came from one of the megacities in earth's united north american states, for one was described as so much as a genius when it came to explosives and demolition. There were a lot of commendations, but even more reprimands in his files. He'd been decorated several times for playing a key role in several covert missions, but he'd also been demoted more than once for his habit of playing practical jokes, usually involving explosives, on each and everyone. Just a few days ago he'd apparently thrown a live, custom made flash-bang in the CIC during a combat drill.

Sweetwater on the other hand was one of the marine corps' best hackers. The son of a diplomat's secretary had spent most of his childhood on Thessia. Growing up as an only child with very few other children to play with, he'd developed skills, that were in high demand in the special forces today. In endless sessions on his mother's computer he'd caused several planet wide security alerts. On one occasion several heavily armed asari commandos had stormed the small flat he lived in with his mother, expecting a cell of cyber-terrorists, but only found a lonely small boy playing with his computer. Cyra smiled absently when she remembered a remark one of his former commanders put in Sweetwater's file to change all personal passwords on a daily basis while serving on the same ship.

Marlowe was the only one of the trio that had special forces training. Classified as N6 it was rumoured that only a mishap, involving an admiral's daughter, prevented him from graduating and earning N7 honours. He'd grown up on the Citadel, both his parents working for C-sec he'd often go to the shooting range with them. An excellent Sniper several of his former commanders praised him for his almost inhumane coolness under fire.

"Now that everyone is here, we can begin." the captain said, interrupting her thoughts. "As of now this ship is on special assignment and we'll be getting all orders directly from alliance intelligence."

"This is our new intelligence officer." he continued turning to the short man standing beside him. "Lt. Commander Robinson. As long as we're on this assignment he'll be the one telling us where to go and what to do." The captain stepped back and nodded towards the other man. "All yours commander."

"Thank you Captain." Robinson replied with a thin smile before addressing the team. "Ladies and gentlemen before we start you must be aware that everything that going to be discussed in here is top secret. You're not to talk about any part of this mission to anybody other than the captain or myself is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" the team answered in unison.

"Good." the commander continued. "Well then, as I am sure all of you are aware that tensions between the alliance and human colonies in the terminus systems have been rising continuously the last couple of years. Pirate attacks and Slaver raids on border colonies have increased ten fold and we have reason to believe that a lot of those raids have been sponsored by anti-alliance groups."

"Uh, reason to believe sir?" Sweetwater piped up.

"Yes reason to believe!" Robinson snapped, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. " If we had proof of everything going on in the Terminus Systems we wouldn't need you to go on this mission! Now would you kindly let me continue private?"

"Yes sir, sorry sir!"

"Uh where was I?" Robinson hesitated for a second before going on. "Oh yes, the management of McKenzie Enterprises, one of the most successful Terminus based companies, seems to be particularly strong anti-alliance and now we have reports from several sources that they are developing a bio-weapon in one of their research facilities on Horizon. I don't think I need to explain what this would mean to our border worlds do I?"

The commander paused for a moment, letting the information settle. "That's where you come in. Since we have no idea where exactly the weapon is developed we need you to infiltrate one of their remote facilities and download data directly from their computers. The labs are all interconnected through shielded optical cables so even if this isn't the right lab there should at least be some information about the others in its database."

Robinson used his omni-tool to activate the central holo-screen. "This is the facility we want you to get the data from." he said pointing at the small, slowly turning 3D image. "As you can see its basically two standard research modules put together. From what we know only one of them is in use at the moment though." Using his omni tool again he changed the 3D image to a map of the terrain surrounding the research lab. "One of our Phantom gunships will put you down here," he continued highlighting a spot on the map. "The landing zone is a couple a hundred meters away from the lab. This small stream should allow you to approach undetected and disable the facility's outside security systems if there are any."

"Yes corporal, what is it?" he asked when he saw Marlowe's raised hand.

"Speaking of Security, what kind of opposition are we facing sir?"

"We believe there are only a few lightly armed security guards present at the lab. We're dropping you in the middle of the night so most of the staff should be in their quarters. Anything else?"

"_We believe."_ Cyra heard Haggard whisper to her left. _"I hate this already."_

"Rules of engagement sir?" she asked.

"Lethal force is authorized but it shouldn't be needed. Get in, get the data, get out with no casualties on either side would be ideal so equip your rifles with non lethal modules." Robinson replied frowning a little. "The gunship is weapons free as well by the way. You can call it in to cover your retreat but it shouldn't be needed either."

"One more thing. The Wake Island is operating in stealth mode as we approach Horizon. All emissions are strictly controlled. We only use passive sensors and all communications are off line except direct optical link so we won't be able to talk to you except in the event of an emergency." the captain added.

"Ah yes thank you captain. Also use your suit radios as little as possible to minimize the risk of detection." Robinson's eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about what else he might have forgotten to mention. "And you have to remove or cover up those N7 signs on your armor lieutenant. They will of course suspect the alliance of the attack but we don't need to hand them proof on a silver plate"

The commander waited for a moment letting his gaze wander from one team member to the next. Cyra tried to think of additional information she might need for the mission but couldn't find any. All relevant data would be uploaded to her hard-suit computer anyway. "Well if there are no further questions, lets get this show on the road! Gear up and report to the main hangar. Dismissed!"

"Wait a moment lieutenant." the captain called Cyra as the team headed for the exit. "I need to speak to you in private for a minute."

"Aye Sir." She nervously changed her helmet from one hand to the other as she walked over to the captain, wondering what he needed to talk to her about.

"Commander, I believe I said I needed to talk to the lieutenant in private." Heisenberg addressed the intelligence officer with a frown when he wouldn't leave right away. Robinson hesitated for a second before heading to the door with a shrug. The captain scowled at the retreating commander's back for a moment before facing her again.

"Forgive me." he said, smiling thinly as he noticed her quizzical look. " I have developed a certain dislike for intelligence officers over the years."

"I understand sir." the young asari replied, unsure what to say.

"No, you don't, not really." the captain said shaking his head slightly. "But I am sure you will soon enough."

"I was in your shoes thirty years ago." he continued before she could answer. "A young, inexperienced lieutenant, about to embark on his first mission. I was probably even more nervous than you are now." Heisenberg smirked.

Cyra's purple skin darkened as she blushed furiously. "Is it that obvious captain?" she asked swallowing hard.

"Fairly obvious yes, at least when you know what to look for like I do." the captain's smile widened a bit. "You'll do fine Shepard, you are very well trained, you got some of the best equipment in the galaxy, your team has a lot of experience and the mission is perfect for your first time out, at least if our intel is accurate." He paused for a moment, his smile vanishing. "Which is why I wanted to speak to you before you go. "Something is wrong here."

"What do you mean sir? Something is wrong with the mission?"

"It's not just the mission it's this whole assignment. I can't quite put my finger on it but something is definitely not right."

"I don't understand sir." Cyra replied hoping she wasn't coming across like a total moron.

"Over the years I've learnt to trust my instincts lieutenant, and my instincts tell me that something fishy is going on here. My spidey senses are tingling so to speak." Cyra had no idea what this last sentence was supposed to mean but decided to shut up and let the captain continue. "Long story short: Keep your eyes open Shepard. I know of a lot of spec ops teams that were never seen or heard from again after being sent on a mission by people like Robinson. When you're down there try to figure out what they are doing in that lab. And tell your men to keep their eyes open too. The more we know about what's going on the better we'll be prepared for what's coming our way."

With that the captain dismissed her, sending her out of the briefing room with a pat on the back. Deeply in thought, she made her way to the elevator that would take her to the hangar deck. She was grateful for a few moments of solitude as the doors of the elevator closed. It gave her a little time to think.

She'd gotten a lot of attention from the media when she'd joined the alliance, had sometimes been treated like a vid star by them. She'd done exceptionally well during basic, advanced and N7 training, but now she was about to lead a special forces team into a real mission for the first time and she knew full well that neither medial fame, nor all the commendations she'd received at the academy would help her once the bullets started to fly.

She felt the elevator slow down as it approached its intended destination. "Dear goddess." she whispered just before the doors reopened. "Please don't let me fuck up!"


	4. Chapter 3

It was a pitch black night, only lit up by the occasional lightning strike, as the A-64 Phantom gunship moved through a storm front, closing in on its destination. A state of the art night vision system, VI assisted flight controls and a highly accurate topographic map allowed the pilot to go down as low as twenty meters at a speed of over fifteen-hundred kph. In the small passenger compartment Cyra gritted her teeth when she felt the gunship rise sharply only to drop again like a stone a second later. Flying that low and fast minimized the risk of detection but it also made for a very wild ride. The asari maiden vividly remembered her first gunship ride during basic training. She'd only barely been able to keep herself from throwing up that day, two other members of her fire team had not been so lucky. 'Take the worst roller coaster ride you ever been on, multiply it by one hundred and you'll have an idea of how it's like she'd described it to her younger sisters in a vid mail. She'd eventually gotten used to wild gunship rides during the later stages of her training but it still wasn't very pleasant, especially since you couldn't see anything of the outside world.

"One minute!" Cyra flinched when lieutenant Murphy's calm voice interrupted her thoughts. In the dim, blue light of the passenger compartment the young asari reached for her breathing mask. "Get ready everyone. Seal hard-suits!." she ordered, the mask clicking into place with a hiss. She then closed the helmet's armored visor, replacing her natural sight with an enhanced artificial vision. The head-up display came online after a moment, showing a small progress bar as the hard-suit's computer performed a quick self test. Satisfied that all systems were up and ready to go Cyra switched to low light vision mode. A small implant, embedded in the back of her neck enabled her to directly control most of the suits functions, allowing her to switch HUD modes or change radio channels with just a thought.

"Check your weapons. Lock and load!" she said next, grabbing her own rifle. The Rosenkov materials M-18 was a brand new, highly flexible weapons system. In basic configuration it was a heavy assault rifle with a secondary 20 milli-metre grenade launcher. Quickly interchangeable components allowed it to fill almost every role an infantryman could require it to. Sweetwater for example had switched out the standard barrel for a longer, heavier one and put a cooling system in place of the grenade launcher, turning the rifle into a light machine gun. Haggard configured his M-18 as a heavy shotgun using a wider barrel and a different ammo generator. Marlowe used the same configuration she did, the standard assault rifle barrel and a low velocity gun that fired small darts, filled with a highly potent nerve toxin that could put an adult human to sleep in seconds.

Cyra checked her weapon, made sure rifle and dart-gun were ready to fire before putting it down beside her. She could feel the gunship decelerate as the checked the heavy pistol she used as a sidearm. "Coming up on the LZ, get ready." the pilot announced. A small light next to the exit ramp

turned from red to green, indicating it was now safe to open the security harnesses. Cyra opened hers, picked up the rifle, took a deep breath and got ready to disembark. She felt the gunship vibrate slightly as it touched down, the ramp opening immediately after. "Everybody out! Go! Go! Go!" the pilot yelled. It took Bravo Team only a few seconds to get out, moving a few steps away before they knelt down in the grass, a few metres apart from one another, weapons at the ready.

"We're out!" Cyra reported scanning her surroundings for any danger.

"Roger, going to holding position." Murphy replied as the gunship rose and moved out of sight quickly, leaving the team alone on the ground.

The young asari continued to scan the landing zone for a few moments then she called up a map of the surrounding terrain on her HUD. The hard-suit computer automatically adjusted the internal compass to Horizon's geographic north pole aligning the map properly. "All right team, listen up." she said after getting her bearings. Three helmeted heads turned towards her. "We got a bit of walking ahead of us." She continued, glad that their suits' interlink identified the different team members displaying their names in the HUD. With their own visors down, the only other way she could tell them from one another was their guns. "We don't know what kind of security measures we're dealing with, so let's go slow and careful. Haggard you're on point, Marlowe you cover the rear. Three metres spread, move out." She thought, she'd heard a very soft 'hmph' from the demolition expert, but he stood up and started to move slowly, leading the team in the direction she'd pointed.

As Bravo team made its way through the forest, towards the small stream they'd been told to use to approach the objective, Cyra caught herself staring at the two smiley faces attached to Sweetwater's utility belt. 'Haggard's big bangs', as the men called them, were heavily modified grenades the explosives specialist had made in the Wake Islands' workshop. She carried two of them herself. "Lieutenant!" Haggard had said gesturing at the regular grenades in the ship's armory, "you don't want that made-by-the-lowest-bidder crap! You want these!" he'd continued, scowling at her as he'd put the yellow, discus shaped contraptions in her hands. "They may be a bit larger and heavier than the regular ones, but they deliver a lot more bang for your buck!" he'd promised.

_Damn it girl, focus!_ She chided herself, tearing her eyes away from Sweetwater's back. A few minutes later Haggard put his hand up to stop and went down on one knee. "What's up?" she asked as she walked up to him, although she already saw what the problem was. "I guess our super smart, all-knowing intelligence officer didn't think of this." he replied pointing at the stream they were supposed to follow. Heavy rainfalls a few hours earlier had caused it to swell enormously and Cyra saw at once that it was no longer safe to move through it. "We'll follow the stream for a bit." she decided after a moment of thinking. "Maybe we'll find a safe place to cross it upstream. Move out."

They followed the stream in silence for a while, but when they hadn't found a place to safely cross it after twenty minutes the asari maiden gathered her men around her. "Ok team, we need to cross this brook somehow and its too wide to jump across, even under the reduced gravity we've got here. I am open to suggestions."

"What about your biotics ma'am?" Sweetwater asked after thinking about it for a few seconds. "Can you use them to jump across?"

"Yes I could." Cyra'd been thinking about that herself. "But the rest of you'd still be standing here."

"Maybe you could throw us across first?"

"Throw you across? All of you?" the asari lieutenant looked at the stream one more time, measuring the distance needed. "Private, I don't know what you know about biotics, but its not like in the vids where they just wave a hand nonchalantly to blow something up. In reality its exhausting to throw a man in armor that far." she said gesturing at the creek. "I don't think I could do that with all of you, not to mention it'd be pretty risky, even if I could."

"Well then maybe we could jump across and you'd give us a little push? Just enough to get us over there safely?" Sweetwater asked hopefully.

Cyra thought about that for a moment. "Hmm, the timing would be tricky, but it might work. Other ideas?"

"We could improvise a bridge by cutting down one of those trees." Haggard piped up.

"Ok, but how would we cut down a tree?" the young asari asked.

"Oh a little C-12 in the right place will work wonders." the demolition specialist replied patting on the tube containing the jelly-like explosive compound. "I did it before."

Cyra frowned, using explosives less than three hundred metres away from their objective wasn't really an option. She could hear a thunderstorm rumbling in the distance but it was nowhere near loud enough to mask an explosion. "Any more ideas?"

"Well, we could call in Murphy and his gunship to carry us across." Marlowe said with a shrug. "Might not be a good idea this close to the research base though."

"Probably not." Cyra agreed with a nod. "And we can't really blow something up within earshot of our objective either. We'll use private Sweetwater's idea."

"Great!" Sweetwater said enthusiastically. "Lemme go first please, I've always wanted to know how a biotic push feels like!"

"Private?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'be careful what you wish for'?"

The boyish tech specialist chuckled softly. "More times than I care to remember." he said walking away from the stream to get enough room for his run up. Cyra put her rifle down and focused, a blue glowing biotic field starting to build up around her right forearm.

"Ready when you are private."

Sweetwater started immediately, running towards the stream as fast as he could. The biotic push hit him in the back just after he'd jumped. "WHOA!" he yelled, arms flailing, when he got propelled over the brook. The push had been a little too strong however and he crashed into a tree with a thud just after his feet touched the ground. "Ouch." he groaned as he scrambled to his feet.

"You all right sweets?"

"I'm fine." the private waved his hand dismissively, looking around. "I dropped my gun, damn it."

"I think it landed on the other side of the tree you bumped into."

Sweetwater leaned around the tree. "Ah yes, there it is, thanks Hags."

As the tech specialist picked up his machine gun, Haggard got ready to jump. This time the push was a little too weak and he only barely made it across. Cyra was getting a hang of it though and Marlowe got over to the other side without any problem. She was beginning to tire however and she had to kneel down for a moment, panting heavily, after she'd made the jump herself.

She briefly checked the map again, then ordered the team to move out. As they slowly approached the research facility she called up a 3D model of the surrounding terrain trying to figure out the best way to get to the airlock. The last sixty to seventy metres they'd have to move over open terrain and the team needed a safe place to scan for surveillance sensors before they'd try to cross it. After studying the 3D model for a few moments, she found a small depression on the 3D model, set a waypoint on the larger scale map and transmitted it directly to Haggard's HUD. "Take us there private." she whispered over the radio. "Will do." was the curt reply.

"Sweetwater." she addressed the tech after the small group was crouched down at the waypoint, a few metres between them, forming a rough square.

"Yes lieutenant?"

"Get your recon-drone up and scan for any outside security."

"Yes ma'am." he replied and pulled a small metal ball out of a special slot on his belt, activating his omni-tool at the same time. The drone, which was only slightly larger than the average marble, was basically a highly advanced camera with a tiny eezo-based propulsion system. Sweetwater programmed it with a course and scan parameters and let it fly. It took the drone a few minutes to complete its sensor sweep of the research base exterior, landing in the tech's hand afterwards. He downloaded the data to his omni-tool and had a special software examine the footage for any kind of surveillance hardware."Anything?" Cyra asked impatiently.

"A few more seconds...ah there we go. A standard security cam at the airlock, nothing else." he said. "At least nothing the software would recognize."

"All right private, you take the lead now, get us to the airlock and disable the camera. Move out."

A few minutes later four dark shadows emerged from the tree line, barely making a sound as they slowly walked trough the tall grass towards their objective. Keeping in the camera's blind spot they Sweetwater led them to the airlock. "If this is a bio-weapons research lab, they are incredibly careless." he remarked as he set the camera feed on a loop, sending the same picture back to the security station over and over. "What do you mean?" Cyra asked suspiciously, suddenly remembering the captain's words after the briefing. "Lousy security, ma'am." he answered as he hacked the airlock system, assuming direct control. "The cam and airlock systems are of a pretty low standard. Hell, even a school boy with a playstation omni-tool could hack this shit." Cyra frowned but let the matter lie for now.

"All done." Sweetwater added a moment later.

"Ok private, open the inner door first. Haggard, Marlowe stack up."

"Opening doors." the tech announced when everybody was ready.

"Hallway clear." Marlowe whispered, glancing inside from his position on the left side of the airlock. "One guard at the post. Standard security vest, probably not even with kinetic barriers."

Cyra peeked inside herself. A security station was situated at the end of a 20 meter long, metal corridor. A young human male sat inside, staring at a vid screen, completely oblivious that the airlock doors had been opened. "Put him to sleep." she ordered. Marlowe took aim carefully and switched to the non lethal gun. It hissed softly as it launched a four milli-metre dart at the guard, hitting him in the neck, just below the jawbone.

"Ow!" the young man jumped to his feet as he pulled it out staring at the tiny dart incredulously. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as the tranquillizer began to take effect. The guard tried in vain to support himself by holding on to his chair and fell to the ground with a thud.

"All clear." Marlowe whispered.

"Go." Cyra ordered with a nod. Bravo team moved up to the guard post quickly. Sweetwater activated his omni-tool again, hacking the stations' security systems. He quickly took control of the internal cams and doors. "Ah shit. A silent alert has been triggered." he whispered. "Switching off now."

"We have to move fast then." The asari maiden growled. "Lock all doors except the one to the lab and this one here." she said pointing at the door to the right of the guard station. "Copy that." the tech replied. "All done."

Cyra turned to open the now unlocked door, gesturing at her men to follow. As it opened with a hiss, she found herself facing an other security guard that came running, a pistol in his hand. "Holy Shit!" he exclaimed bringing up his gun. Cyra however was quicker. Her training kicking in she dropped her rifle and grabbed the man's forearm with her right hand. With a flick of the wrist and a twist of her upper body she used the guard's arm as leverage to sweep him off his feet and sent him crashing into the wall. A single blow to the chin knocked the guard out before he could recover. "Wow." she heard Haggard mutter behind her as she picked up her rifle. Using her own dart-gun she injected the unconscious man with a sedative to make sure he wouldn't get in their way again.

The room, they stepped in was obviously the bases' mess hall, a dozen metal tables were arranged around the large room in groups of three. She called up the blueprints of the facility. The, now locked, door to her right led to the quarters of the support staff and security personnel. The one to the left to the scientist's quarters and the connection tunnel to the other building. Straight ahead was the main lab. "Sweetwater." she addressed the tech as they made their way across the hall. "Anything in the security station's files that can tell us what the other bunker is used for?" she asked as the plans stored in her hard-suit computer we blank in that regard. "It just says, its 'under construction'." he replied with a shrug after checking the files for a moment.

"Stack up." she ordered the team again as they reached the lab door. "Anybody in there?" she asked. The tech checked the security cam feeds. "Half a dozen scientists." he said. "Why the hell are they still up at this hour?" he wondered aloud. "Must be workaholics." Haggard grumbled. "Shhh!" Cyra hissed. "Haggard, Sweetwater you cover us, Marlowe you're with me."

"Yes, ma'am." they replied in unison. At first the few people in the lab just stared at the invading team in shock, mouths wide open. "What is the meaning of this!" one of them, probably the lead scientist, demanded right before he got hit with a poisonous dart. Within fifteen seconds all of them were down on the ground, sleeping soundly. "Whoa, this is another league entirely." Sweetwater exclaimed after he started to work on the lab computer. "This is going to take a while."

While the tech was hacking the lab computer, Cyra took a look around. None of the scientists were wearing any kind of protective gear, nor could she find quarantine pods or anything else one might expect in a lab, developing a bio-weapon. If there really was such a weapon in development on Horizon, it was certainly not done in this particular lab.

"Ok, I'm in, starting the download." Sweetwater said sliding a high-capacity OSD in the drive. As he watched the progress bar slowly fill up, a red light on his omni-tool caught his attention. "Oh, Oh!" he muttered. "Err lieutenant?"

"Yes private, what is it?" she asked.

"The door leading to the other building just got unlocked. Looks like we gona get company."

The young asari was at his side a second later. "See anything on the security cams?" she asked.

"No ma'am, there are no cams in that corridor."

"Haggard, Marlowe, check it out, be careful!" she ordered. They moved out the room quickly, weapons at the ready. Cyra checked the download progress. I was only about half-way done. "Private, unlock the Mess hall door for them." she said readying her own rifle. "I am going to have a look myself." The tech nodded when she headed to the door." Just as she was about to exit the lab she heard several shotgun blasts, followed by a burst of assault rifle fire.

"Houston! We have a problem!" Haggard's voice blasted in her ears over the radio.

"What the hell is going on!" she demanded running out of the lab.

"We got a whole bunch of bad guys coming at us!" this time it was Marlowe yelling. "Fully armed and equipped. One platoon at least!"

As she entered the mess, Cyra saw her men crouched down on either side of the door, Haggard leaned out of cover and fired his shotgun again, his kinetic barriers glowing as he got hit several times.

"Sweets! We need this door closed and locked again!" he yelled.

"Locking it now!" the tech answered. The door closed, its holographic controls turning from green to red. "But it'll only take them a few seconds to unlock it again. Like I said, the security system is a piece of shit!"

"Isn't there away to close it permanently?" Cyra asked, taking cover behind one of the metal tables.

"I could burn out the circuits." Sweetwater replied. "But I'd have to go close to the door to do that."

"Do it! Hurry!" she ordered aiming her rifle at the locked door. The tech came out the door a moment later, charging up his omni-tool as he ran towards his fellow team members. The control panel just switched back to green when he triggered an powerful ion burst at the door, frying its electronics.

"Nice job Sweets!" Haggard sighed relieved.

"Not so fast Hags, they can still blow it open." Marlowe said rising to his feet.

"Indeed, you two get away from the door. Take cover back here. Sweetwater get back on the computer." Cyra growled. "We have to get out of here asap."

"How much longer?" she asked impatiently as the private sat down at the science station again.

"Ninety percent done, about 30 seconds left to go." he reported calmly. The asari maiden tried to get her breathing under control as she kept her gun pointed a the far door. _So this is what it's like._ She thought noticing that her heart was beating like crazy. "All done!" she heard Sweetwater say after what seemed like an eternity. He exited the lab and ran for the door on the opposite side of the room, the rest of the team starting to move just as an explosion annihilated the disabled door. Cyra had almost reached the security station's door when she saw an armored figure, kneeling down in the blackened hole aim a rocket launcher at them.

She yelled a warning and dove to the ground just as the guy fired. The missile streaked through the room with a roar, hitting the wall behind her. The shock wave from the explosion drove the air out of her lungs, several pieces of shrapnel brought her barriers down to sixty percent strength. She got up, her right knee on the ground, her left elbow on her other knee, aiming her rifle at the blasted door as the rocket trooper stepped out of sight to reload. Cyra fired a gun in anger for the first time in her life when another armored soldier stepped out of cover, forcing him back with a long burst. As she ejected the spent thermo clip she could hear Haggard groan in pain behind her.

"Covering fire!" she yelled and turned to the wounded man, barely noticing that Sweetwater knelt down beside her firing his machine gun at the enemy in short bursts. Haggard had dived to the ground a fraction of a second too late and had been closer to the point of impact. Most of the Rocket's fragments that penetrated his weakened barriers had glanced off his armor but one had torn a blood streak across the side of Haggard's right thigh.

"Aahh fucking rocket launchers!" he hissed through clenched teeth as she pulled him to his feet. The demolition expert put his arm around her shoulders, hopping alongside of her, cursing all the way to the door. Sweetwater and Marlowe continued to fire on the blackened hole until their opponents threw several smoke grenades inside the mess hall. Cyra switched to thermal mode immediately, soon realising the enemy had used high quality grenades that blocked the infra red spectrum as well. Hissing a curse of her own she ordered all the team to step through the door. Freeing herself from Haggard's arm with a 'Sorry private', she pulled out one of the custom made grenades, activating the detonator. "Grenade!" she yelled as the threw it in the smoke filled room, closing the door behind her.

As the ground shook from the explosion she turned around, following her men to the airlock. She knew the grenade would only hold the enemy back for a few seconds and with Haggard slowing them down they would catch up to the team very quickly. She only saw one chance to get away with their lives and so she switched from the low emission antenna in her helmet to the high powered one embedded in an armor plate on her back.

"Air-one, Bravo-one come in!" she called the gunship pilot.

"Air-one here go ahead." Murphy's voice had a comforting effect on the young asari.

"Air-one we're exiting the objective right now but we have a whole platoon of bad guys hot on our heels. I need heavy fire on the base airlock asap!"

"Roger, up and moving, ETA thirty-five seconds!"

Cyra knelt down beside the airlock after she got out, just in time to see the door next to the guard post open. The rocket trooper leaned out of cover aiming his launcher at her again. "Not this time ass-hole." she whispered generating a biotic wall half way between herself and her opponent. The missile exploded when it hit the wall. She could still feel the shock of the detonation but the few fragment that hit her we're easily handled by her kinetic barriers. She brought her assault rifle up, firing another long burst down the hallway, followed by a biotic shock-wave for good measure.

"Ten seconds out!" the pilot called in. "Just give the word and I'll unleash a hell of a shit-storm on the baddies!"

The asari lieutenant ran away from the airlock, quickly catching up to her men, who were slowly moving across the open field. She turned around briefly, noticing shadows moving in the brightly lit door.

"Air-one I could use that shit-storm right about now!" she yelled.

"Coming right up!"

The Phantom gunship popped up behind a group of trees about a hundred metres away, the vectored thrust engines on its wing-tips glowing. Tracers reached out as the rapid firing, heavy machine guns in its chin turret opened up, peppering the airlock with several hundred rounds. The covers of its missile packs snapped open and the pilot launched several rockets at the airlock, covering it in dust. The gunship banked slightly gliding towards a good place to land and touched down about fifty metres away.

"Get inside, hurry!"

"Ah damn it, why couldn't he land here!" Haggard complained. "Wait, what are you doing?" he asked when Cyra put his arms around her neck and knelt down. "What's it look like? I'm going to carry you."

"What! Nononono! I couldn't possibly..." his voice trailed of as she grabbed his healthy leg and lifted him off the ground.

"I'll never hear the end of this." she heard him mutter as she started to walk towards the gunship, Marlowe and Sweetwater providing cover. There was no attempt to come after them however and they reached their transport without any further problems. It lifted off as soon as they were all secure inside, keeping close to the ground for a few minutes before the pilot pulled up and headed towards the stars.

In the relative safety in the back of the gunship Cyra was panting heavily now that the adrenaline rush was over. She ripped off her breathing mask and opened the visor trying to keep her hands from shaking.

"Not quite the same as a training exercise is it?" In the blue light of the passenger compartment Marlowe removed his mask and opened his visor as well. He smiled thinly when he saw the asari maiden shake her head.

"No, not by a long shot!" she breathed, closing her eyes briefly.

"You did well lieutenant." he said and leaned forward as much as the security harness would allow, holding out his hand.

"Welcome to the Bad Company, ma'am!"


	5. Chapter 4

_Sorry it took so long to update this. Been quite busy lately and on top of that I came to the conclusion the story as i'd planned it wasn't really working so I had to make some changes to the plot._

_Anyway I should be able to update this a bit more frequently in the future, though i doubt I will be able to deliver updates on a weekly basis as I'd initially planned ;)_

* * *

"Our team is clear, no sign of unusual activity of the planetary defence Captain." the sensor tech reported. "They should be back on board in about twenty minutes." Captain Richard Heisenberg took a deep breath as the tech announced the good news. He'd been pacing around the CIC like a caged tiger the last couple of minutes. What had supposed to be a relatively simple operation to retrieve data from a research lab had almost ended in a bloody disaster because instead of 'a few lightly armed security guards' a whole platoon of fully equipped troops had been waiting for Bravo team at the research base. "Good, good inform me in case anything changes." The captain of the Wake Island gave the sensor tech a pat on the shoulder and turned to his intelligence officer. "Commander report to my ready-room in ten minutes!" he ordered and walked out of the CIC heading for the bridge. He'd been tempted to chew off Robinson's ass in front of the whole CIC crew but he'd probably have to work with him for a while and public humiliation would be counter productive at this point.

He was still angry because of the intelligence screw-up as he stepped onto the bridge. Forcing himself to calm down he addressed his XO. "Commander?"

"Yes Captain?" the blue skinned asari replied turning to face him.

"Our team is on its way back, take us back to alliance space as soon as they're on board."

"Aye sir." commander T'Cel replied curtly and relayed the orders to the pilot on duty who started to plot a course immediately. "I'll be in my ready-room." the captain added after observing the bridge crew doing their jobs for a few moments. "Send lieutenant Shepard to me once she's back."

* * *

The multi-layered force fields, that kept the ship's atmosphere from dissipating into the dark void beyond, glowed brightly as the Phantom gunship passed through them. Flight lieutenant Thomas Murphy skilfully guided the craft to the appropriate landing spot the large flight deck doors closing behind him. In the passenger compartment Cyra briefly closed her eyes as the ramp of the passenger compartment reopened, resting for a few seconds, before she followed her men out. As the noise from the gunship's engines slowly quieted down, the young asari walked up to the cockpit where the pilot was going through the shut-down procedures. "Thanks for the help back there...Murphy isn't it?" The Pilot looked surprised for a moment. "Any time, lieutenant." he finally replied with a smile holding out his hand. "Thomas Murphy, call me 'Murph'." Cyra shook his hand. "Cyra Shepard."

"Shepard?" the pilot's eyebrows shot up. "As in 'Commander Shepard'?" he asked incredulously.

The young asari sighed. "My father." she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh boy, its nice to meet you!" he exclaimed shaking her hand with increased vigour."Damn, if I had know a Shepard was riding in the back I would have given you guys a smoother ride." Murphy merrily continued, failing to notice the subtle undertone in her reply. "I would have..." his voice trailed off as Cyra frowned. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Nono, its not your fault but ever since I joined the alliance I am almost exclusively perceived as the daughter of the great Commander Shepard." she paused for a moment. "I love my dad but sometimes its really getting annoying that his 'adventures' are all people seem to be able to talk about when I am around."

Murphy smiled ruefully. "I can imagine, its not easy to live in the shadow of a legend hm?"

"Oh it has its upsides too." Cyra said relaxing a little. "It opens a lot of doors but the nosy reporters I could definitely do without."

"I bet you could." the pilot's eyes slid sideways. "Anyway I think your boys are waiting for you and I have to power down this baby. See ya later?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure thing." she said taking off her helmet as she walked over to the rest of the team. "Okay guys so much for our first time out together." she began. "We're still alive so I guess I didn't screw up too bad." she added with a thin smile drawing soft chuckles from the men. "Sweetwater get Haggard to sick-bay, Marlowe and I will take our guns back to the armory."

"I know the way, don't need a baby-sitter! " the demolition expert protested, shoving Sweetwater's hand away. "Oh, don't be silly, come on. " The tech said putting an arm around Hags' Shoulders. An amused smile crept on Cyra's face as she watched them wander off, Haggard mumbling something that sounded like 'god-damned muffin-heads'. Beckoning Marlowe to follow, she headed towards the armory, curiously looking around the Wake Islands large flight deck. She'd been too focused on her first mission to notice it before but the ship was carrying an impressive amount of hardware. Cyra watched a platoon of marines run an improvised confidence course on the opposite side of the hangar bay barely noticing that Marlowe was talking to her. "I'm sorry, what did you say corporal?" she asked absent-mindedly. "I said the alliance brass certainly haven't been cheap outfitting this ship." he repeated himself. "Lots of fire-power assembled here." he said gesturing towards a row of fighting vehicles. "Hover-tanks, APCs, Gunships, Assault dropships, everything."

"Just thought about that myself." she agreed. "Makes you wonder what this ship was designed for. When I got this assignment I was under the impression that the Wake Island was a regular stealth frigate but it is more like a light carrier." Cyra observed opening the door to the armory. "From what I've heard she's the largest stealth ship in citadel space."Marlowe stated as he followed her inside. "How long have you guys been on board anyway?" the young asari asked seizing the opportunity to learn more about her team. " 'bout two months ma'am." Marlowe replied as he put down his guns on a table beside hers. The master chief in charge scanned the weapons with his omni-tool to register their return and handed the rifles one by one to several marines who immediately started to take them apart. "We got stationed here when our former team leader got discharged."

"Something happened to him?"

"To chief Redford? Na, he'd just served his time and went back to civilian life, that's all." Marlowe smirked. "He'd been fantasizing about opening a bar on Terra Nova for months. The three of us got a pool going about how long he'll be able to stand civilian life."

As the two of them left the armory Cyra's omni-tool came online with a beep cutting short their conversation. Cyra briefly checked the message displayed on the holographic projection before she called down the elevator. "The captain wants to see me asap." she said upon entering the lift. "You people get some rest. I'll come by in a couple of hours."

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

Michael Mauser, head of McKenzie Enterprises research and development, yawned widely as the small white pill he'd just thrown into a glass of water slowly dissolved. _"It's kinda stupid."_ he thought, his eyes narrowing as he emptied the glass in two big gulps. _"I need medicine to be able to sleep and in the morning I need a stimulant to wake properly." _His insomnia had worsened lately and his doctors hadn't been able to find a medical reason for the problem. One of them had suggested that he should reduce his work load a little bit. _"As if it was that simple."_ he mused glumly.

A few months ago one of their botanist teams had discovered that one of Horizon's indigenous ferns produced a liquid with extraordinary healing properties. Properties one of his scientists had assured him were potentially superior even to medi-gel. Since the day of that discovery he'd been working tirelessly to provide the research teams with everything they needed. He'd even had an all new research facility built overnight in the area the Luomo-Fern was found predominantly.

He frowned as his communicator beeped, announcing an incoming call. _"Roberts should better have a damn good reason for calling this early in the morning."_ He thought with a scowl as he recognized his assistant's ID. He tiptoed out of the bedroom carefully, trying not to wake his young wife before he accepted the call.

"Good morning, Roberts, what can I do for our glorious company this fine morning?" he asked sarcastically not even trying to hide his disapproval at the disturbance. He hated being rushed early in the morning.

The barely concealed hostility in his superior's voice took the assistant aback for a moment. Usually Mauser was fairly pleasant to work with. "Come on mister!" the executive barked impatiently. "What is so damned important that it can't wait till I am at my desk?"

"S...Sorry to disturb you Sir." Roberts stuttered. "But there was an attack on one of our research facilities and I thought..."

"What!" Mauser exclaimed, interrupting his assistant. Any remaining tiredness vanished instantly at those news. "When!"

"Apparently some time after midnight, sir. Doctor Luomo called in a few minutes ago and requested a meeting as soon as possible."

"_Luomo! Our research on the fern! Damn it, why didn't I more forcefully insist on a better security system and more guards at the last meeting of the executive Board!" _Only a few days ago he'd called in a few favours to get an infantry platoon of Horizon's planetary defence force to temporally bolster the station's security. Apparently it hadn't been enough.

"What of the personnel working there?" he asked with real concern. "Are they allright?"

"I don't really know sir, Doctor Luomo seemed to be pretty confused to tell you the truth. All I could tell from her babbling was that there's been an attack and she wishes to meet with you." Roberts replied. "She terminated the call before I could ask anything else and I figured I'd call you right away."

"Hmm okay, good. Listen, get one of our company sky-cars and pick me up at my home as soon as possible. I need to get a first hand look at the damage caused before I request an emergency meeting of the executive board."

"Will do Sir."

Mauser nodded and terminated the call. A small part of him was glad that something happened as it gave him an opportunity to tell those self righteous fops on the board that they were idiots. He took a deep breath and looked at himself in a mirror for a moment, dismissing those thoughts as childish, before he went back to the bedroom to get dressed properly. At least he wouldn't have to hurry. He'd built his luxurious home far away from the planetary capital and it would take his assistant at least fifteen minutes to get here. _"Might even have time for a cup of coffee."_ He thought with a smirk.

His wife Christine was awake now, sitting in their bed in her purple nightgown, the first rays of Horizon's sun glittering in her golden hair. "Morning honey." He said as he took a fresh shirt out of the wardrobe. "Morning." She replied with a small yawn, casting a glance at the small alarm clock on the bedside table. "You have to go already?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid so, Roberts is going to pick me up in about fifteen minutes." he answered evenly trying not to arouse suspicion. He'd been trying to keep the company's affairs out of his home as much as he could and the last thing he wanted now was to scare her with news of an attack. "Pick you up?" her eyebrows rose even higher. "Since when does Roberts come all the way out here to pick you up? Is something wrong?" _"Damn it!"_

"Na, don't worry just a small problem at one of our research centres." he said trying to keep a straight face. "One of the scientists requested that I go and have a look, yesterday if possible." He continued. "You know how some of them are. If they got a problem the world better stop and fix it asap." He could tell from the look on her face that she wasn't fully convinced but instead of pressing the matter she got up, moving towards him with a smile that caused his heartbeat to quicken considerably.

"Say." she purred as she embraced him kissing him on the tip of his nose. "Since we have a little time before your faithful assistant gets here, how about a little morning workout?"

"I...I really should get ready." he stuttered. "Shouldn't let him wait..."

"Pffft!" she interrupted him, nibbling at his left earlobe. "You're the boss! He'll have to wait." She pressed her body against his.

"But...but...Ah, what the hell..." he mumbled.

"_Guess I won't have time for a coffee after all..."_

Michael Mauser was struggling with his tie as he stepped onto the landing pad on the roof, twenty-five minutes later. The security guard on duty at the pad helped him with with his briefcase as he got in the waiting skycar with a small apology.

His jaw went slack as they landed at the base about thirty minutes later. "What on earth happened here?" he wondered in shocked amazement, looking at the facility's entrance. The base airlock had literally been torn apart. The frame was bent out of shape, the thick metal doors blasted away by powerful explosions. He was so flabbergasted, he barely noticed the armored figure walking over.

"Mister Mauser?" the soldier greeted him with a nod. "I am lieutenant Eponti. Planetary defence forces." Mauser blinked and shook his head as if he'd just awaken from a bad dream. "A pleasure lieutenant." he said mechanically. "What...I mean...how..." he struggled with his words. "What the hell happened here!" he exclaimed after pulling himself together. "They blasted their way through the door or something!"

"This?" the lieutenant waved dismissively. "Na, this happened on their way out." he paused for a second. "I think it might be better if I started from the beginning?"

"Good idea." Mauser agreed. "Let's hear it on our way inside."

"Well from what we can tell so far, an alliance special forces team hacked the door and entered the base about an hour after midnight." Eponti began as they started to walk. "Alliance! Are you sure?" Mauser's assistant asked in shock. "As sure as one can be." the armored man replied, frowning at the interruption. "They were humans, although one of my men suggested that one of them might have been an asari, and they were using top notch equipment. AV-Helmets and the like. No way mercs or slavers have access to that kind of hardware, hell I doubt even Aria T'loak could get her hands on something like that."

As they got closer to the airlock Mauser could see that it was riddled with hundreds of bullet holes but before he got a chance to ask about them, Eponti continued. "Anyway they took out the guards and the scientists on duty with tranq-darts, took control of the security system, hacked the research computer and downloaded a whole lot of data. When we arrived on the scene they were already on their way out. We followed them to the airlock and had a gunship waiting for us. That's what caused this mess." he said pointing at the airlock.

As the three of them went inside, the McKenzie Enterprises executive noticed a large bloodstain on the floor. "You suffered any casualties?" he asked feeling a little sick to the stomach. "Half a dozen wounded, one of them in critical condition. A machine gun volley took his arm off at the shoulder."

the lieutenant answered grim faced. "We already got them transferred to a hospital."

"Why would the alliance be after our research on the fern?" Roberts wondered. "Its not as if its a world changing technology or something." Mauser frowned as his assistant said aloud what he'd been thinking about himself. If the scientists were right about the capabilities of the fern's fluid it would be a cheaper and somewhat more effective alternative to medi-gel. From a business standpoint it had an enormous potential but it was hardly a game changer from the military point of view. "Actually we don't think they were after our research." A new voice interrupted his thoughts. "Ah doctor Luomo." Mauser said recognizing the silver haired woman. "Are you allright? What happened to you?" he asked as he noticed the bright red spot on her neck. "I'm fine, I'm fine." she huffed with a scowl, absently rubbing the spot. "Those armored savages shot me with a poisoned dart." Despite the seriousness of the situation Mauser had to fight to hide a grin. Maria Luomo was a brilliant scientist, one of Horizon's most gifted individuals, but she could be a pain to work with as he'd found out first hand on more than one occasion. Him and Roberts had once theorized that only a sedative or a bullet could stop her once she was talking about her research.

Still struggling to hide a smile he turned to the head of the base science team. "What makes you think their objective wasn't your research here?"

"The only thing they did was to download data from the network terminal." Dr. Luomo said with a shrug. "They didn't access our personal data-pads and neither did they touch any of the samples in the freezer. Hard to imagine what they hoped to find in this miserable little network of yours."

Mauser's eyes narrowed for a split second. "Thank you doctor." he said, ignoring the jibe and waved his assistant over. "Rob, call our network techs, we need to know what they downloaded and we need to know it yesterday, got it?" As Roberts got busy calling the techs, the executive let his gaze wander around the lab, lost in thought. He tried to think of something in their research network that might have been of interest to the alliance but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find anything, at least nothing that would warrant a commando operation like that.

"Excuse me lieutenant." he addressed the PDF officer. "You mentioned they used a gunship as means of transportation right?" he asked.

"Correct sir."

"I'm not a military expert, but gunships aren't FTL capable are they? If so how did they get here?"

"Been thinking about that myself. They must have had a mother-ship in orbit." Eponti said with a frown. "I've been talking to space surveillance before you got here and they are checking their sensor logs for any anomalies now."

"For anomalies? What anomalies? I mean how could an alliance ship get this close and launch a gunship undetected?"

"From what they've told me the only way to pull off something like that is if a stealth frigate dropped off the gunship in very low orbit, basically just above the atmosphere. The thing is...I am told the stealth frigates,the alliance has in service at this time, are not capable of carrying gunships. Their hangars would have to be modified for that."

"If you'd excuse me now, central command is asking for a report." The lieutenant said after receiving a message. "I'll keep you posted okay?"

"Of course." Mauser replied rubbing his forehead. It sounded like this whole operation had been planned well in advance and he still couldn't think of a reason why.

"_What the hell is going on here?"_ he thought.

* * *

Cyra was dead tired when she entered her cabin, grateful for a bit of privacy. The debriefing with the captain and the intelligence officer seemed to have exhausted her more than the actual mission. Slowly peeling away her armor she noticed that she hadn't had time to unpack yet but she didn't care. Having striped down to her underwear she briefly thought about taking a shower but decided against it and lay down on the bed. She was asleep within a few seconds.

At the same time private Terrence Sweetwater opened his eyes, after pretending to sleep for a while. After he made sure that his buddies were sleeping soundly, he walked over to the cabin's computer terminal as silently as he could. He logged in, using a special command line. One of the first things he'd done after he'd come on board was to hack into the ship's entertainment network. The ship's critical systems were linked together using an isolated net that was constantly monitored by several independent VIs and thus almost impossible to hack. The net the crew used for entertainment and their personal affairs was something else however. He'd accepted that he would most likely get caught on his first hacking attempt, for what the techs hadn't found when they'd checked the system was a tiny trojan he'd left behind. A trojan he was now using to assign more storage space to his personal account. After making sure that Marlowe and Haggard were still asleep, he activated his omni tool. A while ago he'd secretly upgraded it with several additional memory modules, increasing its capacity enough that he'd been able to copy the data they'd taken from the research base. The transfer from his omni-tool to his personal account took just under ten minutes and he almost fell asleep during the process. Yawning widely he programmed a search program with parameters,ran it and logged out again.

"Let's see what we gona turn up." he whispered, stifling another yawn as he went back to his bunk.


	6. Chapter 5

"Looking good, gents!" Private first class George Gordon Haggard grinned smugly as Marlowe and Sweetwater passed him on their second run of the confidence course. The ship's doctors had put him on light duty for two days because of his leg wound, forbidding any physical activity other than walking. "About 20 seconds behind the LT but still good." His team mates glared at him for a second before they threw themselves at the three-meter wall. It had become apparent very quickly that the young asari was in outstanding physical shape and while Sweetwater and Marlowe were certainly no push-overs, they hadn't been able to keep up with their new team leader.

"That was refreshing wasn't it?" Cyra said, stretching her flexible body, as the two of them finished their run. "Are you trying to prove something here lieutenant?" Marlowe asked, breathing heavily, his hands resting on his knees. "Me? Na why would I?" she replied with an innocent smile. "Oh come on." she added chuckling as she noticed the sceptical look on the corporal's face. "I can't afford to appear weak in front of my first command, can I?"

"I guess not." Marlowe found himself starting to like the team's new leader. She had an air of youthful enthusiasm about her he found refreshing. "Just don't expect us to keep up your pace, not unless you want to lose your team to heart attacks that is." As Cyra continued to stretch Marlowe caught himself staring at her curves. The sweaty, white N7 t-shirt she wore clung to her body, leaving fairly little to the imagination and while the lieutenant was not a great beauty by asari standards, she was still very attractive to the human eye. He tore his eyes away from her and gave Sweetwater a furtive look. "Sweets!" he hissed as he saw the private gaping at the tall asari. The tech blinked, shaking his head as if he'd just awoken from a dream, his ears reddening when he realised, what he'd been staring at.

He hastily turned his head away trying to find something else to look at and saw Haggard ambling over, the smug grin still on his face. The wonders of the modern medicine made it possible that less than twelve hours after receiving a deep flesh wound on his thigh, the demo-specialist could walk normally. An other twenty-four hours and his leg would be completely healed. Haggard stopped when he saw a young maintenance crewman, who was supposed to be working on a gunship, staring at Cyra as well. Casting glances left and right he slowly walked over to the tech approaching him from behind. The impish grin on Hags' face indicated he was about to unleash on of his infamous practical jokes. "What the hell do you think you're doing mister?" he yelled into the poor boy's ears when he was standing right behind him. The tech immediately sprang into a position of attention. "Sir, I was..." he began not daring to look at whoever shouted at him. "Shut up! I don't care! What kind of a sorry excuse for a maintenance tech are you anyway? This damned gunship was supposed to be fixed hours ago!"

The boy turned his head slightly. "But Sir, I only just..."

"Eyes up front sailor!" Haggard interrupted him. "Now you better stop day-dreaming, get your damned head out of your damned ass and get the damned work done! Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, Sir." the tech mumbled.

"I can't hear ya!"

"SIR! YES! SIR!"

"Good! Carry on!"

As the PFC tip-toed away the young man hastily picked up his tools from the floor and got to work completely unaware of who'd just given him a chewing. "What was that all about private?" Cyra asked curiously as Haggard finally joined them. "Oh, just doin' my part to ensure that ship's operations run as smoothly and efficiently as possible lieutenant." he replied grinning from ear to ear. "Sorry ma'am." he added with a chuckle as her eyes narrowed. "I couldn't resist."

"Oh well, never mind." she shrugged it off, for she had to admit the short 'confrontation' had been amusing to watch. "Let's go get a shower and something to eat."

* * *

Preston Marlowe enjoyed sensation of warm water running down his face, his eyes closed. One of the best things about serving on the Wake Island was that everyone on board was entitled to thirty minutes of real water showering a week. He briefly opened his eyes looking at the small screen embedded in the wall to check how much time was left on his account. "So, what do you guys think of our new lieutenant?" he asked as he closed his eyes again allowing himself one more minute of pleasure. "Well she certainly kicked our asses during PT." Sweetwater said drying himself with a towel. "What do you mean OUR asses?" Haggard interjected. "YOUR asses you wanted to say right?"

"Oh like you would have done better than us." the tech snorted, his eyebrows rising.

"You bet I would have." the demolition expert grinned. "Come on guys, I would have expected a little more pride from you."

"At least she didn't have to carry our asses to safety." Marlowe said as he finally turned off the water and reached for his towel.

"You DO remember that I got shot in the leg right?" Haggard protested.

"You didn't get shot, you took a piece of shrapnel because you couldn't move your ass out of harm's way fast enough."

"Yeah well, that rocket-punk aimed at me, what was I supposed to do?" the PFC exlaimed. "That's really great!" he added with mock indignation. "There I am taking one for the team and instead of being a little grateful my squad mates are claiming that is my own fault."

"Ow yeah, it's sooo unfair right Hags?" Sweetwater laughed loudly. "It's so unfair that you didn't get to show off in PT because of that glorified scratch of yours."

"Oh you just keep making fun of me bro." Haggard growled. "Next time you get it, I am gona be the one laughing."

"You do that."the tech said, still chuckling.

"Anyway, to get back to our earlier subject." he continued after pulling himself together."I'd say the lieutenant did pretty well down there." He paused to tie his boots. "She kept a level head when things got messy, she didn't hesitate and made good calls." The private stood up looking at his mirror image for a moment before putting on the dark blue cap. "And she asked for ideas when we were stuck so she's willing to listen to us."

"Yeah that's nice indeed." the Haggard agreed. "But I am still having trouble, wrapping my head around the idea that an asari is leading us into combat."

"But she's Shepard's daughter, I mean come on man."

Haggard frowned. "Sweets, are you absolutely certain Shepard is her father?" he asked as he put on his own cap. "As in 'Commander Shepard', as in THE 'Commander Shepard'?"

"Yep, I am positive. Overheard her talking about it to Murphy right after we landed yesterday." the tech said checking out his appearance in the mirror one more time. "Besides there are plenty pictures of her on the extra-net."

Haggard's eyes widened. "Pictures?" He asked grinning slyly."What kind of pictures?"

"Not that kind of pictures, Hags." Sweetwater replied with an exaggerated groan. "Jeez, can't you think of anything other than tits and explosives?"

"Hah, look who's talking!" the PFC laughed. "You practically drooled over the lieutenant when she stretched. Don't you think I didn't notice."

"I didn't droolmmnnggg " the tech mumbled blushing mildly. "Hey Pres, get dressed already, I'm starving." he added, desperately trying to change the subject. Marlowe grinned as he put on his pants, clearly enjoying the private's discomfort.

"Look Sweets, I know you can't wait to lay eyes on our lovely lieutenant again, but that's no reason to rush me okay?" he said, as he tied his boots deliberately slowly. "Be patient bro, she ain't gona run away."

"Aye, best thing about serving on a starship!" Haggard cackled. "The ladies can't run away. Well not far at least." He tapped the tech on the shoulder. "Good for you buddy."

"Ass-holes" Sweetwater muttered, glaring at his team mates as they laughed heartily. "Besides you can't tell me you didn't look just a little bit Pres."

"Of course I looked." the Sniper replied with a smirk. "I just didn't gape like you."

"I didn't g...!" Sweetwater took a deep breath. "What do you think of her anyway?"the private asked in another attempt to change the subject.

"For the first time out she did a damned good job I'd say." Marlowe said as he finally finished putting on his uniform. "We'll have to keep an eye on her though. It could end badly for us if her enthusiasm turned into recklessness. But as you said, she seems to be willing to listen." He stood up. "Come on, lets go."

"You know Sweets." He said unable to resist teasing the tech a little further. "Maybe you should put a tracking device on her next time we're planet-side, you know just so you can find her again if she runs away."

"Oh Shut up, will ya?" Sweetwater replied as he opened the door.

"Excuse me private?" Cyra had been waiting for them outside the shower room.

"Sorry, not you ma'am." he stuttered. "We just had a little disagreement, is all."

"A disagreement? About what?"

"Errr..." The three men exchanged glances, each one of them hoping, the others would find a way out of this potentially hazardous situation.

"Nothing important ma'am." Haggard finally began, putting his arm around the tech's shoulder. "You see, friend Sweetwater here called me a pyromaniac and that's just absurd. I mean seriously..."

"You seriously are!" the tech exclaimed, glad that . "I mean anyone, who enjoys playing with fire and explosives as much as Hags qualifies, right ma'am?"

"Oh shut yer trap will ya Sweets?" Haggard roared before Cyra could think of a proper answer. "I ain't a pyromaniac, I am an artist! An artist you hear?"

"Oh man, don't switch channels folks." Marlowe interjected with a snort."This should be good."

"Quiet over there on the peanut gallery. " Haggard scowled, turning to his other squad mate. "Look fellas, every idiot can blow something up if he has enough explosives. But to make something go exactly the way you want, without using a single gram more that necessary...that, my brothers, requires SKILL. That is a form of art, do you bums understand now?"

"I think we get it private." the asari maiden hastily stepped in because she feared they'd still be standing here in an hour if she didn't interrupt the debate. "You can tell us all about it while we eat. Come on people, I am starving."

"Nicely saved Hags." Sweetwater whispered as they followed the lieutenant to the elevator.

"Hmph." was all he got for an answer.

* * *

Some time later that day Geoffrey Robinson pressed his head against a rubber coated retina scanner, starting the scanning process while another security device took a sample of his DNA to make sure he really was authorized to access the safe in his cabin. Aside from some personal documents there was a small metal box in the safe, containing several dozen OSDs. He opened the box with his thumbprint and chose one of them at random sliding it into the drive of his computer terminal. The intelligence officer activated the comm-system using the holographic controls to select the intended recipient of the call and checked the door again to make sure it was locked.

The image of director Fisher appeared in front of him about twenty seconds later, his expression calm and controlled as always. "Good morning Robinson." he greeted him. "Or whatever the time of day is where you are."

"Good morning director." Robinson returned the greeting with a nod. "Turning on encryption, key-number..." he checked the OSD again. "Sierra-Charlie-Zero-Two."

"Sierra-Charlie-Zero-Two." the director repeated and took the appropriate OSD from a metal box of his own. "Activating it now."

Fisher's face vanished for a moment before the Commander turned on the encryption on his end. "So Robinson." the director continued after the connection was re-established. "What's the news? I trust everything is going according to plan?"

"For the most part yes." Robinson replied. "Our agents on Horizon report nothing that could jeopardize the operation and an additional team of operatives is now ground-side in case anything goes wrong." He paused for moment, taking a deep breath. "But we may have a problem here on the ship."

Fisher leaned back in his chair. "Explain."

"I just found out that one of the members of the special forces team we sent in yesterday has made a copy of the downloaded data."

"What? Who?"

"Private Terrence Sweetwater, the team's hacker." Robinson said. "Can't really tell how he did it but he downloaded the data into his personal account and has search programs going through it day and night."

The director frowned rubbing his forehead. "That could be a problem indeed." he said, more to himself than to his subordinate. He briefly turned away from the comm-terminal to call up the private's file on his other computer.

"Sir, what do you want me to do about it?" Robinson asked. He was getting tired. It had been a long day.

Director Fisher studied Sweetwaters file for a moment longer, thinking about the possible consequences of someone else having access to the data in question, before he turned back to the comm-screen. "Do nothing." he finally replied. "The next phase begins in two days and not even a computer freak like him will be able to go through that much data thoroughly enough to be a threat to us. Not in two days. I'll handle it personally once I get there."

"Understood Sir."

"Is there anything else we need to talk about?"

"No sir that's all."

"Good, I will see you in two days then."

Robinson removed the OSD from the drive and waited. After a few seconds it hissed and released a puff of smoke. He threw the now useless data storage device into the wall mounted waste disposal unit and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes for a while. For a minute he wondered how Fisher intended to 'handle' the situation. But then he decided he didn't really want to know.

* * *

"Still nothing?" In the dim, orange light of the holo-projection, Private Sweetwater growled in frustration. For three days he had sacrificed a part of his sleep to try and find something in that load of data he'd copied. He'd used several different search engines, dozens of parameters and still he hadn't found any mention of bio-weapons so far. He started another search, switched off the terminal and went to bed. As he lay on his bunk, staring into the darkness the tech pondered over the lack of results his inquiries had produced so far. He thought about what else he could do, something he might have forgotten. "_By now_ _I should have found something."_ was his last thought before he fell asleep.

He didn't know how much later the lights of the room were switched on again but it felt like he'd only just closed his eyes.

"Wake up, people." Cyra said loudly as she stepped inside the room. As Sweetwater's eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden brightness he noticed she was wearing her armor.

"Suit up." She said after she made sure all three of them were awake and listening. "Briefing room at 0415, we're going back to Horizon."

Sweetwater stared blankly at Marlowe's armored back as he followed his team mates into the Wake Island's mess hall twenty minutes later. Haggard whistled in astonishment as they made their way over to the coffee maker. "Looks like this is going to be more than a commando operation."

The tech looked around stifling a huge yawn. The clock over the entrance showed 0355. On a starship there was of course no such thing as day or night but there was a period of low activity from 'midnight' to 0600 ship time. Haggard was right. Normally the mess should have been pretty much empty at this time, yet there were about fifty fully armored marines gathered around several tables in the hall. Either they were in for a late night combat drill, which was not very likely, or they were part of the operation.

As Marlowe poured three cups of coffee for them, Haggard and Sweetwater rummaged through a fridge next to the coffee machine. The kitchen was closed at this hour but the cooks always kept the fridge stocked with snacks. They took a few sandwiches with them and walked over to a group of marines.

"Hey Boys and Girls." Haggard said as he sat down next to a female marine with the insignias of a combat medic emblazoned on her shoulder guards. He let his gaze wander around the small group of soldiers as they returned his greeting with nods and mumbled 'hellos'. Most of them looked far too young and inexperienced for his taste. _"Kids! Just fucking kids! They should send 'em back to school not to a battlefield."_

"Well, well." One of the few veterans, a gunnery chief, spoke up. "If it isn't the infamous Bad Company. Are you people with us on this one?"

"No idea gunny." Haggard replied. "I only know that we're going on a mission tonight."

The following conversation was mostly speculation about the upcoming operation. Sweetwater quietly sipped from his coffee and paid no attention to what was said. One of the things he'd learned first during his time in the special forces was that once on a mission you never knew when you'd be able to get something to eat. Therefore he gobbled down a sandwich although he wasn't really hungry. He stared absently at his coffee cup thinking about his mother as he always did before a mission. She still worked for the diplomatic corps, now living on the citadel. In the last mail he'd received two days ago she'd been talking about a new man in her life which was a major cause of concern because his mom tended to fall for the wrong guys. Guys like his father. Sweetwater had never met him and didn't want to either but years ago he'd sworn that if he'd ever run into him by chance he was going to break the man's nose for walking out on her.

"Hey Sweets! Wakey, wakey!" The tech flinched. Lost in thought he hadn't noticed the others leaving. He hastily emptied his cup and followed the other marines outside. "Why do you guys call yourselves 'Bad Company' anyway?" One of them asked Haggard as the lot of them made their way over to the briefing room. "I mean, you're just a team right?" Haggard glared at the young soldier for a moment.

"Because it sounds better than 'Bad Team' smart-ass!"


	7. Chapter 6

_Okay, this chapter got a bit away from me to be honest. It turned out way longer than I thought it would be. Hope the whole think is not too long or repetitive for your tastes._

_Please let me know what you think :)_

* * *

Cyra didn't know how to feel about her second mission when she exited the briefing room a few minutes after her men. According to the Wake Island's spook, as the marines used to call intelligence types, the analysis of the research data gathered a few days ago showed that the bio-weapon was developed in some off-world facility rather than on Horizon itself. Unfortunately the data didn't show where exactly so the mission was to capture the head of McKenzie enterprises R&D for interrogation. The asari maiden could understand why it was important to locate the bio-weapons lab, but she didn't like the idea of kidnapping a civilian. _"It isn't up to you girl."_ She thought, trying to calm herself down. _"Just focus on your own job."_

While the goal sounded relatively simple, it was a much more complex operation than her first mission had been. The luxurious twelve-story building the target lived in was far enough away from any major settlements to make a stealth mission possible but it was also quite well defended. A platoon of mercs and several fixed mass accelerator turrets required a little more firepower than a four man team could provide.

According to the plan a strike force of gunships and assault dropships would put a reinforced platoon of marines on the ground at the main entrance of the building while Bravo Team was going to be dropped off on he roof. Special forces team Alpha was on the ground already. Their mission was to cut the land-lines at a junction a few klicks from the planetary capital of Discovery. At the same time a squad of marines, their hard-suits equipped with zero-g booster packs were on their way to disable a surveillance satellite in geo-synch orbit.

Once the they'd captured the target lieutenant commander Robinson would fly in with a shuttle and take him into custody. The young asari found that part of the plan a little weird. After all the marines could bring the man back to the ship just as well and Cyra couldn't think of a reason why the ship's intelligence officer would want to take him in himself. _"Maybe it's a prestige thing."_ she thought with a shrug.

"So, what's the news LT?" Haggard asked as she joined them next to the elevator. "What did the captain want? Are we s'posed to 'keep our eyes open' again?"

Cyra shook her head. "No, I mean yes that too but mainly he informed me that we got two marines from charlie company assigned to us for this mission."

"What?" Marlowe's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure that's a good idea ma'am?"

"I don't have a say in this corporal." the asari said, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other as they waited for the elevator. "The captain told me we need a medic in case the target is wounded and since we got room for one more in the gunship we may as well take an additional marine with us."

Marlowe shrugged realizing it was pointless to argue.

"Anybody else finds it strange that director Fisher comes out here personally?" Sweetwater inquired as they rode the elevator down. "I mean the head of alliance intelligence coming out to the front himself?"

"Maybe he wants to make sure there are no more intel screw-ups." Haggard remarked. "Would be nice if those spooks worried about that for a change."

"Yeah right, as if someone like Fisher cared if a spec-ops team encounters a little more resistance than anticipated." The tech snorted snidely. "I figure he must have a personal interest to come..."

"Sweets!" Marlowe hissed, interrupting the tech as the elevator doors reopened. "If I were you I wouldn't think too much about what the director's motives may or may not be. And don't ask questions about it either. It would be bad news for all of us if Fisher decided that a certain hacker was too nosy for his own good!" Cyra listened attentively to her men as they walked over to the armory. She had been wondering about the director's presence as well but she also had to agree with what Marlowe said.

"But..." Sweetwater began but the asari lieutenant cut him off. "Enough of this people. Focus on our own task. Down there check your corners, keep your eyes open, your asses covered and we'll all get back in one piece. Let's move!"

* * *

The high pitched whine of engines running on idle power greeted the team as they stepped onto the Wake Island's flight deck ten minutes later. The deck was buzzing with activity. Maintenance techs swarmed around the different vehicles doing the final pre-launch checks, while weapons crews finished loading the gunships' missile launchers. Several squads of marines just boarded one of the two Hercules assault dropships assigned to the strike force.

"Which one is our gunship again?" Sweetwater asked as they made their way over to the waiting vehicles.

"The 401." Cyra replied absently, referring to the grey number pained on the nose and tail-fin of each craft. "We're flying with Murphy again." She continued, fumbling with her rifle's carrying sling. One of the few downsides of the highly configurable M18s was that the frame wasn't collapseable. Therefore they used old fashioned slings to carry them around.

Haggard frowned. "You mean the 401 with those two greenhorns waiting next to it?" He let out an exaggerated groan. "Is the captain trying to get us killed or something?"

Cyra looked up after she'd adjusted the sling to the proper length. "Greenhorns or not they're still marines private. Give them a little credit will ya?"

"Credit? They look like they're about twelve. I mean come on LT you can't be serious."

"I told you before, it's not up to me okay?" the young asari said, eyeing the the two marines as they approached them. They indeed looked very young, even for humans. One of them was a fairly handsome man, wearing the standard heavy marine armor and carrying an assault rifle. The other was an asian woman wearing medium armor emblazoned with medic insignias. She carried a backpack containing additional medical supplies and used a sub-machine gun for self defense.

They saluted as the team reached them, taking on a position of attention.

"At ease." Cyra said returning the salute. "You two are with us right?"

"Yes ma'am." they replied simultaneously.

"Names?"

"Private Tom Blackburn ma'am." the young man said.

"Private first class Romelia McCoy ma'am."

"McCoy?" Sweetwater asked incredulously.

The asari maiden noticed that the tech's eyes narrowed slightly as he eyed the good looking asian."Something wrong Sweetwater?"

For a second it seemed like he wanted to say something but then he just shrugged. "Nothing ma'am."

"Well then helmets on everybody. Activate suit interlink." She ordered. "Get in, Blackburn, McCoy you first."

"Let's go pretty boy." Haggard growled, tapping the younger man's shoulder. "Try not to get us killed pretty please." The marine looked insulted but kept quiet. He wasn't about to tempt the wrath of a soldier of Haggard's reputation. He simply strapped into his seat and bit his tongue.

"Are you guys good to go back there?" Murphy asked over the intercom as the team settled in their seats. Cyra briefly checked if everybody had put on the safety harnesses correctly.

"We're good here Murph, ready when you are."

"Roger that, we didn't get the mission launch code yet. Looks like we can honor the old military tradition of waiting for a bit."

* * *

"Teams alpha and x-ray are in position Captain." the sensor tech reported tersely, looking at the feed from the ship's passive sensor array. " They should disable their objectives any second now." Captain Heisenberg took a moment to look at the holographic images himself, using the controls to increase the size and zoom factor of one of the pictures. Once again he was amazed by the sharpness and clarity of the camera feed. Although the men on the screen were several thousand kilometers away he could see every little scratch on their armor suits.

The captain shot a glance at director Fisher. The director and his bodyguard, a tall tough looking man, had arrived a half a day ago and were now observing the operation in the CIC. Checking the mission clock again Heisenberg turned to the weapons officer. "Is the jammer ready lieutenant?"

The younger man straightened up."Yes Sir. Firing solution is set, dispersal pattern and jamming parameters programmed. We're ready."

"Signal from Alpha Team. Mission accomplished. The land-lines have been cut." One of the vid-screens showed green smoke next to the land-line station the men of the team boarding a small, four-wheeled scouting vehicle. With their mission completed they headed towards the extraction point as quickly as they could. Despite the situation, the captain couldn't help but feeling a little jealous of the men on the ground. Riding that scout car looked like fun._"Beats stumbling around the CIC with some god-damned spook looking over one's shoulder."_

"Team X-ray is on its way back. The sat's disabled." Another report interrupted the captain's thoughts. The tension in the CIC rose as the captain addressed the weapons officer again. "Launch the jammer!" he ordered.

The torpedo tube doors opened briefly, the modified missile's booster igniting for a short burst just after it left the tube. It entered the atmosphere after a few seconds, the maneuvering thrusters firing repeatedly to keep the missile on its intended trajectory. Ten-thousand meters above the ground the casing split open, releasing a dozen small jamming pods, each equipped with its own small propulsion system. Each of the pods adjusted his course slightly, homing in on its programmed point of impact. A small parachute slowed them down on the final descent before they touched down, forming a rough circle with a radius of a little over one kilometer around the target. The pods were set on semi-active jamming mode which meant that any incoming or outgoing communication, that didn't have a certain signature, would get neutralized by a signal of opposite strength and modulation.

In the Wake Island's CIC, Richard Heisenberg took a deep breath before issuing his next order. "Give the strike force the mission launch code." He looked around the CIC for a bit, watching the crew doing their jobs. "Planetary defense showing any activity?" He inquired.

"No Sir, nothing unusual." Was the terse reply.

"So far, so good." The captain whispered.

* * *

"The mission's a go." Murphy announced over the intercom. The ground crews got clear as the noise on the flight deck gradually changed from a whine, first into a low rumble then to a roar as the pilots increased power.

"Closing the ramp." the flight lieutenant continued. "Next stop Horizon ladies and gentlemen."

* * *

Master Sergeant Gwen Forrester of the Wildcats security company, was on her way to check on the men on guard at the security perimeter when she heard a faint thud overhead. She raised the head curiously looking for the source but didn't see anything in the clear sky that was out of the ordinary. _"Maybe just my imagination."_ She thought with a shrug rubbing her weary eyes. She looked forward to a few hours of sleep as she looked towards the east where the 'sun' would rise in a few minutes. As expected the night had been uneventful, just like every other night since she'd been transferred to this platoon. Some of the younger, less experienced troopers used to complain about the 'boring guard duty' but she didn't mind it at all. She'd seen plenty of action during the last couple of years and the simple task of watching over 'Mauser Mansion' ,as they used to call the tall building, was a welcome change of pace in her eyes.

"Hey Micherelli." she greeted the trooper on duty on the east side of the estate. "How's it going?"

"Goin' just fine sarge." He replied, stifling a yawn. "I could use some sleep though. The relief should better not be late."

"I hear ya." Forrester grinned checking her suit's chronometer. "Only fifteen minutes to go." She turned to leave but stopped. "Say, did you hear anything a minute ago?"

The younger trooper raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean sarge?"

"Dunno, I thought I heard a thud or something. Ah well, its probably nothing. I could use some sleep myself." Micherelli smiled sympathetically as she walked away. She was about half way to the next guard post when the radio came alive.

"Sergeant Forrester, this is Daniels." The guard on duty on the west side called in. "I just saw something coming down near us."

"Something? What do you mean by something?" The master sergeant barked in her helmet's microphone. "A little more specific please, mister!"

"A small pod of some kind, retarded by a small parachute." The man on the other end answered. "It must have landed about a klick away."

"Same thing here." The southern guard cut in before she could answer. "I think I saw several of those coming down."

That stopped the master sergeant cold. Several parachute retarded pods landing close by was alarming to say the least. Her weariness completely gone she called the sergeant on duty at the main entrance. "Sergeant Volkov! Send out a three man patrol to check out those pods! On the double!" She started to jog back to the entrance.

"Central." She radioed the soldiers in the armored room on eleventh floor. The whole security grid, the automatic mass accelerator turrets and the direct link to planetary defense was controlled from this room. "Call PD-HQ, ask them what they think of this and bring the turrets online just in case." The corporal on duty acknowledged the order and went to work right away.

"And somebody wake lieutenant Herbst." Forrester added after a moment.

"I'm up, I'm up." A new voice spoke up. "I am at the main entrance."

"I'll be right there Sir. "She found the platoon leader waiting in front of the building, talking to sergeant Volkov . He briefly removed his helmet to adjust something minor before putting it back on again.

"Ah there you are Forrester." he greeted her. "Volkov explained the general situation." He paused for a moment looking at the clear sky. "So, what do you think is going on?"

"I am not sure sir, but whatever it is it can't be good for us." She replied. "I mean, no one drops pods like that just for fun. I suggest we get everybody up and ready as quickly as possible."

The lieutenant thought about possible scenarios and his options for a few moments. "I agree." He said turning to Volkov. "Wake everybody and tell them to get in gear sergeant."

"Yes sir." Volkov replied at once and ran off.

"Any other suggestions sergeant?" Herbst asked taking a pack of cigarettes out of a small pouch on his armor's utility belt offering her one. She shook her head and tried to think of other actions they could take at this time. "No sir, until we know what got dropped nearby and until we got planetary defense on the horn there's nothing else we can do."

The lieutenant lit a cigarette and took a few pulls. Forrester noticed his hands were shaking slightly.

He was nervous. Like most of the other troopers in this platoon he didn't have a lot of combat experience and the uncertainty of the situation gnawed on him. The master sergeant tried to think of something she could say to calm him down but then the radio receiver squawked at her.

"Central here, we have a problem. We haven't been able to reach PD-HQ, hell we couldn't reach anybody. There seems to be a comm black-out or something."

"What the hell, a black-out? Have you..." Herbst began.

"Sorry LT." The master sergeant interjected hastily. "Guys are you getting the carrier wave from the com-sats?" She asked as she suddenly realized what the dropped canisters probably were.

"No sarge, we're not getting anything at all. We tried everything we could think of but the problem doesn't seem to be on our end. The land-lines are unresponsive as well."

Gwen Forrester took a deep breath. "Lieutenant we're going to be under attack soon."

Herbst's was pale as he turned to her. "Are you sure? How...?"

"As sure as one can be. Somebody cut the hard-lines and those pods we saw coming down earlier must have been jammers. They black out all communication to keep us from calling for help. I don't know who, I don't know why but somebody will attack. You can bet money on that LT."

The lieutenant was maybe young and inexperienced but he was no fool. There really wasn't any other explanation. Ignoring the lump in his throat the best he could he keyed his suit radio. "Central are the turrets ready?"

"One, two and four are good, but we got a red light on number three sir."

"Sergeant check out that turret but if you don't see the problem right away don't waste any time and come back. I'll pull back the troopers on watch. Go!"

Forrester nodded and started to run towards the damaged turret at once. She was about half way there when all hell seemed to break loose. The alarm went off only seconds before a series of explosions rocked the ground. The experienced soldier dropped to the ground immediately, crawling toward cover. Over the thunder of the detonations she could hear somebody yell. "Gunships! Hit the deck!"

The alliance strike force swooped in low preceded by a swarm of guided missiles. The automatic turrets disintegrated after taking multiple hits. None of them had managed to get a single shot off.

Taking cover behind a garden bench the master sergeant raised her head to look around. Four dark shadows seemed to emerge from the sunrise. Their turret machine guns flashing as they fired at everything that moved, the Phantom gunships streaked through the air above low enough that she could feel the heat of their engines briefly wash over her. She jumped to her feet and dashed for the entrance praying she would reach it before they came back for a second pass.

Relieved that she didn't get cut in two by a hail of bullets, she took cover behind a thick stone pillar next to the door, trying to gain an overview of the situation. The lieutenant was dead, his headless corpse lying on the ground not five meters away. Ordering the squad leaders to assemble their men and get organized she considered her options. Out in the open they'd have no chance in hell against that attack force. Even a single gunship was a formidable opponent and four of them were just impossible odds. Besides some of the guys claimed they'd seen additional flyers hovering nearby. The only real chance they had was to keep the attackers at bay inside and try to get a signal out somehow. "Renora, Volkov." she called two of the squad leaders. "Get your people to the top of the entrance hall stairs and bunker up. We need to keep them out of the building as long as we can."

She was just about to order sergeant Park to go to the top and guard the roof entrance when she saw a female trooper move from tree to tree trying to get closer to the door. "Jenkins! Jenkins don't move!" She yelled when she saw a gunship coming in for another pass but the other woman either misunderstood her or was panicking because she broke away from cover and ran toward the master sergeant.

* * *

"Target ten o'clock." Flight lieutenant Murphy's head snapped to the left as the VI's artificial, emotionless voice bawled in his ears. Using his neck implant to control the gun turret he placed the cross-hairs over the running figure. _"You poor stupid bastard, why didn't you just stay put?"_ He thought to himself as he pressed the trigger, watching the merc collapse and vanish in the dust cloud kicked up by the one second burst. "Tango 1 and 2, this is Foxtrot 1." He radioed the drop-ships. "The front yard is clear, bring in the troops, Foxtrot 3 and 4 cover them." He briefly waited for the pilots in question to acknowledge the command, before calling his wing man. "Foxtrot 2 is the roof clear?"

"That's affirm, you can put your people down."

"Roger that." Murphy activated the intercom.

"Get ready, gonna drop you off on the roof in fifteen seconds. Good luck guys!"

* * *

At first Michael Mauser's mind seemed to refuse to process the idea that his home was under attack. He simply stared out of the window in shock, his mouth wide open. Only when one of the gunships roared past the window close enough to make the glass shake he was able to shrug off the paralysis that had overcome him. He ran to his wife who was frantically struggling to put her pants on.

"Come on honey we gotta go." He said as he tried to help her but he only made matters worse causing her stumble and fall. He pulled her up from the floor, a brief look at her face showing him that she was just as scared and confused as he felt. When she was finally able to finish putting on her pants they immediately left their bedroom each of them taking some small comfort in holding their hands.

"Michael what's going on here?" She asked breathlessly as they ran through the corridor to the emergency stairwell on the other side of the building.

"I have no idea." He said, as they moved up the stairs, cursing himself that he couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her. "I only know that we have to get away somehow. Maybe the skycar on the roof..."

"Sir!" A trooper waiting on top of the stairs interrupted him. "Sir stay where you are! There's a gunship hovering out there that shoots at everything that moves."

"But the skycar is our only chance of..."

"Look sir, even if you got to the car, they'd just blow you out of the air. Our only chance is to sit tight and hold them off until help arrives."

"Help is on the way?" Mauser asked, his face reddening from embarrassment. He'd been so anxious to get away he'd overlooked the simple fact the attackers were still out there. "How long till it gets here?"

"I wished I knew." The soldier said in an even voice, carefully glancing outside. "Shit!" he suddenly yelled and leaped away from the transparent door only a fraction of a second before it got peppered by machine gun bullets. Mauser stumbled and almost fell down the stairs small bits of super-concrete trickling onto him.

"Sir, ma'am you gotta go downstairs quickly!" He said after risking another look outside. "Sergeant Forrester this is corporal Joensen. A gunship just put down a squad on the roof. Mr and Mrs Mauser are up here with me what should I do?" He listened attentively for a few moments, shooing the married couple away. "What? Are you crazy?" He exclaimed. "There's five or six of them up there, how am I supposed to..." The corporal stopped briefly. "Yes ma'am!" He finally said, his face pale.

"Go, go!" The trooper said as he joined them on the top floor readying his rifle. "Go to the second floor and try to find sergeant Forrester. I'll try to slow them down." He gave them a little push before he aimed his weapon upstairs.

Michael Mauser took his wife's hand and started walking down the stairs. They could only take a few steps before the corporal opened fire. Mauser whirled around as the trooper fired his rifle at an unseen target. Horrified as he was he found himself unable to turn away watching the soldier's barriers glowing brightly as they deflected several shots. Joensen took cover behind the corner and ejected his thermo clip. Then he fired his gun upwards again, getting one more burst off, before he was thrown against the wall by a biotic attack.

Mauser watched with dismay as the corporal struggled to get back on his feet picking up his gun. There was another burst from an assault rifle somewhere above. Joensen staggered briefly, then he collapsed, his weapon falling out of his lifeless hands.

Mauser finally woke up from his trance a turned to his wife. She was biting in her fist trying to stay quiet, tears running down her face. "We need to go." He breathed, fighting hard against the panic that threatened to overwhelm him, took her hand again and pulled her with him as he went down the stairwell as quickly and silently as he could.

* * *

"One down." Cyra reported as she slowly descended. "Move up and secure the corridor." She ordered, keeping the fallen merc in her sights. The team quickly moved in position and reported 'all clear', except Sweetwater who checked the stairwell. "There's two more guys moving down, possibly civilians."

"Let them." The asari lieutenant said tersely. "They're not going anywhere." She knelt down to check the merc. There was no doubt he was dead, even without scanning his vitals with an omni-tool. The usually transparent visor was red and pierced by several bullets. A small part of her mind realized that this was the first time she'd killed but she was too focused on the mission to think about it now.

"Sweetwater, McCoy." She ordered as she rose. "Watch the stairs and make sure they don't come back up." Cyra said looking at the mission time on her HUD. "Marlowe, Haggard you check the rooms on the right side. Blackburn you're with me. Go!"

It took the four of them a few minutes to check out all the rooms on the top floor assembling at the stairwell afterwards. As the team slowly and carefully made their way downstairs, the strike force commander radioed in. "Bravo 1-6 this Romeo 2-5, I need a SITREP."

"Romeo 2-5, this it 1-6." The asari maiden immediately replied. "Roof and top floor are clear. Moving down now. We've only encountered light resistance so far."

"1-6 I need you to take out that guard station on eleventh asap. This building has some sort of built in, deployable barricades down here and they're a pain to get through. If you could disable those in a timely fashion we'd appreciate it."

"_Translation: Move your fucking ass bitch!"_ Cyra thought with a sigh before answering. "2-5 wilco, we're moving as fast as we can."

"Just get it done marine! 2-5 out!"

"All right you heard him we need to pick up the pace a little." She said, telling her people to move on with a gesture. Since speed had become important she ordered Sweetwater and McCoy to help clearing out the rooms on this floor. There was a small risk that enemies bypassed them, going to the top if the stairwell wasn't covered but she figured it was minimal. For one they could do that using the elevator too and secondly any reinforcements would probably be sent up here with the task to help defending the guard station since the building was locked down anyway.

"Blackburn, McCoy. You cover our backs." She ordered as they'd finally worked their way to the armored room on the other side of the corridor. "Sweetwater open that door. Haggard, Marlowe stack up." She said readying a flash-bang as the tech got to work. He disabled his omni-tool only a few seconds later. "Lieutenant, the circuits are shielded. I can't access them from out here."He said shaking his head.

Cyra frowned. "Okay, Haggard you're up, Sweetwater get ready to go in."

"With pleasure." The demo-expert replied with a feral grin and got to work.

* * *

"They're outside Central sarge." Forrester could hear the fear in the young man's voice as he radioed in. "Five or six of them. We need help up here pronto." The master sergeant cursed, ducking as bullets hit the wall beside way too close to her head for her taste. The battle wasn't going well. The alliance marines had pushed them back using portable heavy barrier generators and a shitload of smoke grenades. The barricades had slowed them a little but that was all.

"I sent a squad up there to help a minute ago." She said trying to calm the kid down. In reality only a four man fire team was on their way to reinforce Central. She'd just not been able to spare any more. "Hold them off as long as you can. Just hang in there kid. We'll get you out!"

"We'll do what we can sarge but..." He was interrupted by a loud explosion. Forrester could hear someone yelling 'Naji look out!'. Another explosion. The report of multiple assault rifles. Several shotgun blasts. A scream of pain and then a brief silence. The next thing she heard was a weak voice moaning 'mom...mom'.

"Fuck!" She cursed again. "Park!" She called the leader of the team she'd sent to the eleventh floor. "Where the hell are you? Those alliance punks just took Central goddamnit!"

"We're on ninth at the moment. How many guys are we up against?"

"Five or six. Look be very careful. If you can't take Central back just try to slow them down as much as you can."

"Roger, will do."

Forrester scowled, trying to think of what she could do as the battle raged around her. After a moment she realized she had really only one option left. She activated her suit's radio again and set it to the frequency of the patrol they'd sent out to check on the jammers just before the attack. _"God, I hope they're still alive."_

* * *

"Romeo 2-5 this is Bravo 1-6." Cyra reported to the senior officer. "We got the station. We're working to bring down the barricades now."

"That's a solid copy 1-6. Good work!" was the reply. "Once you're done there work your way down. And remind your people again not to shoot anything that moves. We need the target alive."

"_As if we'd forget about that." _The young asari thought with a frown. That part of the operation had been stressed at the briefing over and over again. Aloud she said: "Yes sir. Will do. 1-6 out."

As Sweetwater was hacking into the computer Cyra knelt down next to the mortally wounded merc who was slumped against the wall nearby. The other occupant of the room had been lucky. Marlowe had killed him with a clean head-shot. But this poor fella here served as a spectacular and horrifying example of what a point blank shotgun blast did to you if your barriers were down. He moaned weakly, bloody hands clutching his annihilated abdomen. There was no way this man would leave the room alive. Not even the best medicine could hope to repair this kind of damage in time to save him. The only thing she could do was to grant him a quick death. The young asari took her pistol and pressed its muzzle against the young human's visor. "I'm sorry." She whispered, as she pulled the trigger. The shot caused everybody to flinch. The moaning stopped. Cyra felt a lump in her throat and had to fight a sudden urge to vomit.

"All done." Sweetwater reported. "Elevators are offline and the barricades are down."

The asari maiden cleared her throat, pulling herself together as she turned to the tech. "Good job private. Come on guys, lets get out of here." She was glad to get out of this room as she stepped on the corridor, checking her assault rifle.

"Contaaact!" Blackburn yelled in front of her only a few seconds later. Several enemy troopers had just appeared at the stairs on the opposite side. Cyra accidentally knocked over McCoy as she leaped inside the closest room, the corridor exploding with noise behind her.

"Blackburn move your fucking ass out of...Grenade!" She heard Haggard scream as she scrambled to her feet, helping the shorter woman to get up too. A detonation rocked the building before she got to the door.

"Fuck it!" Haggard screamed again as she leaned against the door frame. "Blackburn is down!"

Cyra's grip on her rifle tightened. She leaned out of cover and let go a burst in the general direction of the enemy. The young marine was lying face down a few meters away, his right side blackened by an explosion.

"Haggard, McCoy!" She shouted when she saw that no one of the team could pull Blackburn to cover without exposing himself. "Get Blackburn in here! Sweetwater, Marlowe prepare for suppressive fire on three!"

"Ready?" Nods and mumbled confirmations answered her.

"One...Two...THREE!" She leaned out of cover again and pressed the trigger as Sweetwater and Marlowe joined the fray, filling the corridor with tracers. One of their opponents got caught in the open and was cut down before he could reach cover. She stopped to eject the spent thermo clip firing several additional bursts downrange as Haggard dragged the private's body towards her leaving a trail of blood on the floor. He kept as low as he could, some of the bullets fired by his teammates only missing him by a few centimeters. McCoy crawled towards him and grabbed Blackburn's left wrist. Their breathing heavy they managed to get him inside the room fairly quickly. The medic immediately activated her special issue omni-tool to scan the unconscious marine.

"Oh my god." She breathed when she saw that the damage was way too extensive for the suits auto-treatment. She threw her backpack to the ground and hectically rummaged through its contents. "Take off his breastplate please." The young asian said to Haggard as she took a large, sealed gel-pack out and readied her injector. The demo-expert muttered something about not being a fucking nurse but started to open the straps and clamps that held it in place at once. One corner of the gel-pack between her teeth McCoy used her combat knife to cut open the suit's airtight fabric after Haggard' removed the plate. Using water from her canteen and a piece from Blackburn's t-shirt she washed away most of the blood before she ripped open the plastic container and started to spread out the thick medi-gel on the numerous frag wounds on his right side.

"Lieutenant." She said as she injected the private with a solution that contained additional medi-gel and a very potent pain-killer. "We need to get him to the medevac asap. Several fragments punctured his lung and the liver is practically shredded. He's stable for now but if he doesn't get to the med-bay soon..." She let the sentence hang in the air preparing a small IV.

As the fire fight in the corridor raged on, Cyra swore under her breath. This was going to be tricky.

"Romeo 2-5, this is Bravo 1-6. I got a wounded man up there. Looks bad. Requesting medevac extraction on the roof asap."

"Roger that 1-6. Hold on a moment." The strike force commander replied at once. Switching channels immediately afterwards he relayed the request to one of the two shuttles waiting some distance away.

"1-6 the shuttle is inbound. ETA about ninety seconds."

"Copy 2-5. Tell the pilot not to land until we're on the roof. There are still a few bad guys at the stairwell up here."

"Roger, will advise. 2-5 out."

"All right guys!" The asari maiden shouted. "Blackburn needs an evac and that means we gotta get those fucks away from the stairs pronto! McCoy stay here. The rest of you with me! Fire and maneuver people! Let's see if they can take what we're throwing at 'em now!"

* * *

"They're on the move!" One of sergeant Parks' two remaining men reported as the intensity of the rifle fire suddenly increased. The sergeant risked a quick glance. The alliance team slowly and skillfully closed the distance. Two of them dashed from one door to the next while the others were laying down suppressive fire. Park leaned out of cover and pulled the trigger, taking a few hits himself. He cursed loudly. His barriers were almost gone. It was time to get out of here.

"Okay people!" He yelled. His barriers recharged way too slowly for his taste but there was no time to wait. "We gotta pull back now. Mandela, you go first we'll cover you."

Both troopers made it back to the stairwell in one piece. Then it was his time to go. His men fired their rifles down the corridor, trying to force their opponents into cover. When they stopped to eject the spent thermo-clips he ran but one of the marines, a tall female, had obviously been waiting for this. As soon as the shooting stopped she briefly stepped out of cover and released what looked like a wave of shimmering air.

"Sarge look out!" One of the troopers managed to yell just before the shock-wave reached them. Park was thrown against the wall his weakened barriers unable to absorb the biotic attack. Still groggy from the impact he tried to get back on his feet as several bullets punched through the armor on his right shoulder. Releasing a howl of pain he tumbled down the stairs. His fellow troopers helped him to his feet as the hard-suit released some medi-gel to seal the wounds. The pain lessened somewhat but it still felt as if searing hot needles had just been shoved through his shoulder.

"Come on sarge, we gotta move."

* * *

Cyra ran back to the wounded marine with Sweetwater in tow as soon she got the 'all clear' from Marlowe. "Private get the stretcher ready!" She ordered as she knelt down besides Blackburn. The tech nodded and released a contraption from his back that looked like two metal rods, roughly forty centimeters long and five wide, glued together. He put it on the ground and pressed a small button. Cyra had been fascinated, even amused when she'd seen one of these auto-expand in basic for the first time. But now she didn't even notice as the rods turned into a full blown stretcher, hissing and clicking as they expanded.

On McCoy's command they got the unconscious marine on the stretcher. As the lieutenant and the tech picked up the young soldier the medevac called in.

"Bravo 1-6 this is Mike 7-7 we're in position and ready to pick up your wounded."

"Roger 7-7 standby we'll be on the roof in a minute."

"Understood, 7-7 out."

* * *

Captain Heisenberg stood behind one of the operators, watching with concern as the medevac touched down on the roof of the target building. A moment later the stairwell door opened revealing Shepard and Sweetwater carrying a stretcher the young asian medic walking besides them holding up an IV. What was her name again? The captain couldn't remember. As soon as the casualty was secure inside the medevac lifted off only to touch down at the main entrance again. Additional wounded were brought to the craft.

"Captain we have movement on the ground." A sensor tech to his right reported. The Wake Island's commanding officer tore his eyes away from the screen and walked to the other station with a frown. What he saw on this other holo-projection was quite alarming. Somehow three of the mercs had been able to evade the gunships an were now moving away from the building in a hurry. At this rate they would be outside the jammer ring soon.

"How long till they're far enough away from the ring to get a signal out?" He asked the operator. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed his asari XO coming over.

"Six, maybe seven minutes sir." The younger man said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Should we notify the ground troops Captain?" Commander T'Cel asked.

Heisenberg considered all his options carefully, absently rubbing the bridge of his nose. One signal to the gunships and they would be on top of the mercs in seconds. But if he broke EMCON to send a warning to the troops he'd risk detection by the planetary defense sensors. He could move the ship out of line of sight to she main sensor grid at Discovery space port, greatly reducing the risk. But that would take time and they wouldn't be able to monitor activities in the PD main base until they got back to the current position.

"Not yet." He said as he reached his decision. "We give the men on the ground another five minutes. If they don't have the target in custody till then we signal the gunships." He turned to his XO. "Commander, I need you to go to the bridge. If we're detected I need you to take us out of the anti-ship guns' firing arc and tell Mitchell to calculate an emergency FTL escape vector."

"Aye captain."

* * *

Michael Mauser had never felt so helpless in his life before. He and his wife were stuck on the sixth floor. At first he'd wanted to go to the second floor where the majority of the defenders were, but the sound of heavy fighting had stopped him. He didn't dare to go back up either. When he'd peeked out of the room they were hiding in a few minutes ago he'd seen three men coming down, one of them obviously injured. Could they use the elevator? The security company he'd hired had always told him not to use it in an emergency. The risk of getting stuck was too big they'd said. But then again they were stuck anyway.

"Stay here honey." He said as he figured he could at least check if the lift was still working. "I'll be right back." She grabbed his hand and yanked him back.

"No way!" She exclaimed angrily. "I'll come with you."

"But darling it could be dang..."

"No discussion." She cut him off. He realized it would be pointless to argue. He could see the fear in her eyes but he could also see determination. "Where you're going, I am going. If it isn't too dangerous for you it isn't for me either."

He sighed heavily "Okay then let's go. " He took her hand again and lead the way, stepping on the floor after another peek out the door. They walked over to the elevator as silently as they could. "Damn it's offline." He sighed with a grimace.

"Maybe we should try the stairs. Maybe we can get to the skycar now." His wife suggested. From the sound of her voice he could tell that she didn't really believe that herself. "What do we have to lose?" She asked when he didn't answer. "At least we have a small chance of getting away. I don't know about you but I do not want to sit helplessly in the corner of a room and wait for them to find us."

She did have a point. If they'd run into their attackers, whatever they wanted to do to them, it would at least be over with. Having to wait for something bad to happen was sometimes worse than when it actually happened.

"You're right." He said with a forced smile. "Let's give it a shot." He pulled her close and kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you too." She replied giving him a shaky smile.

At first they didn't encounter anybody in the stairwell and he'd almost started to believe they could actually make it to the roof when he found himself staring at the muzzle of a shotgun, not five meters away.

"Hey that's him!" He heard a dark voice roar. "Halt!"

Mauser jumped back, a primitive survival reflex kicking in he turned around and started to run, pulling his wife with him. They didn't get very far. He heard her shriek as her hand got snatched away from him. He whirled around and saw that a dark energy field pinned her to the wall.

"Christine!" He yelled in desperation. One of the soldiers crashed into him, throwing him against the wall.

"End of the line buddy." The armored man said as he shoved him to the ground, a knee painfully digging into his back. They bound his arms behind the back and pulled him to his feet again.

"Leave her alone!" He screamed as a female marine pressed an injector against his wife's neck. It released a tranquilizer into her bloodstream with a barely audible hiss. She yelped and went limp.

"Keep your pants on." The soldier with the shotgun growled. "We're here for you, not for her."

* * *

"Romeo 2-5, this is Bravo 1-6 we got the target. Taking him to the roof for extraction." Cyra called the senior officer once again.

"Bravo 1-6. Good job. I am calling in the shuttle now. Is he hurt in any way?"

"2-5 that's a negative not a scratch."

"Okay. Again nicely done. We're pulling back. 2-5 out."

"Right lets move it!"

The captive struggled as Haggard gave him slight push. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you've done to my wife!" He shouted.

The demo-expert opened his visor with an exaggerated sigh, looking in the man's eyes. "Look brother." He began. "She's only sleeping and if don't move your ass up the stairs right the hell now I'll shoot your legs off at the knees and carry you." Mauser gaped at the PFC obviously trying to decide whether he was serious or not. In an almost friendly manner Haggard gave the frightened man a tap on the shoulder. "Now can we do this the easy way or do I have to ruin both our days?" Mauser almost replied that his day was already ruined but then he decided he didn't want to push his luck and started to move after a last look at Christine's limp form.

* * *

"Captain we have green smoke!" The operator hooted. This was the signal that the target had been captured. Heisenberg was at his side a second later. He watched with a relieved smile as the marines boarded their transports, with all four gunship providing cover. One after the other they lifted off. Since Murphy had to provide cover for the other craft Bravo Team got picked up last, taking off about a minute after the others.

"Captain! Activity at the military part of Discovery spaceport!" The captain swore under his breath, the smile vanishing, as he stared at the screen. He'd completely forgotten about the three man patrol and it looked like they got a message to planetary defense. "Looks like they're scrambling sir!" The operator confirmed his fears. The vid-feed showed a lot of men and women running to their craft. He counted at least thirty gunships heading for the target area at high speeds but what worried him a lot more were the heavy gunboats. Two dozen of them took off from hardened shelters heading for a low orbit.

"Whoa!" Another operator shouted. "They just brought an active scanner online. Jeez! Look at the power output from that thing!" A wide beam active scanner was now searching the space in their sector. A moment later a loud beep on this operator's station had everyone flinch. "Captain they just lit us up! Anti-ship guns coming around."

Heisenberg activated the intercom. "Bridge this is the captain, get us out of their firing arc!" He shouted as the ship shuddered, its barriers deflecting the first shells fired by the planetary defense artillery. "And prepare for emergency FTL jump on my command!"

"Break EMCON!" He addressed the operator in front of him. "Give me the strike force general channel."

The younger man pushed a few holographic buttons and nodded. "You can speak sir."

"Eagle 1 to all callsigns! Return to the ship as quickly as you can! Stealth is no longer an issue! I say again, stealth is no longer an issue! Eagle 1 out!"

* * *

"Holy shit!" Murphy exclaimed switching on the gunship's intercom. "Looks like something just went south!"

Cyra felt the craft accelerate as the pilot increased power to full throttle.

* * *

At the same time in the passenger compartment of one of the shuttles, lieutenant commander Robinson clicked off the safety of the remote detonator he'd been hiding in a bag on his suit's utility belt.

"What's that?" The prisoner asked, eying the small metal rod suspiciously.

"Nothing that concerns you." The intelligence officer replied with a thin smile and pushed the small red button.

* * *

Murphy had just pulled up when an explosion rocked the gunship. "Shit!" He yelled as the engines suddenly lost all power, the haptic interface lighting up like a Christmas tree. "Foxtrot 1, we're hit! Mayday, mayday, mayday!" He shouted, not realizing that the radio was dead.

"What the hell is going on?" One of the men in the back demanded.

"We're going down is what's going on!" the pilot replied curtly. "Now shut up and let me concentrate!"

* * *

"Foxtrot 1 is in trouble captain." The tech reported. "They..."

"I have eyes mister!" Heisenberg hissed angrily, watching helplessly as the gunship lost altitude leaving a trail of black smoke. He resisted the urge to curse loudly. Until a minute ago everything had been going according to plan. Even better in fact. Now everything seemed to go wrong at once.

"How long till the rest of the strike team is back on board?" He inquired.

"About ninety seconds captain."

"Gunboats are inbound!" Heisenberg went over to the other station. The heavily armed and armored sixty meter vessels were specifically designed for planetary defense. A few of them wouldn't have been a problem. But two dozen were. A big one. The only good thing was that they most likely wouldn't risk to use fusion warheads this close to the atmosphere.

"Fire up the point defense guns and standby!" He ordered walking back to see how the damaged gunship was doing.

* * *

Fight lieutenant Murphy was fighting with the controls the treetops getting closer and closer. Both engines were down but the small eezo core and the few aerodynamic control surfaces were still operational. It was not enough to keep them aloft but he could slow the rate of descent. He hadn't been able to find any open spaces nearby. A crash landing in a forest was among every flyer's worst nightmares but the pilot was too focused to think about that now. He didn't even feel fear.

Murphy briefly leveled off only a few meters above the treetops, slowing down as much as he could without stalling the craft. "Hang on back there!" He said absently as he slowly brought the gunship's nose down. The first branches hit the cockpit with a loud crack. The pilot barely managed to the evade one of the enormous tree-trunks. The gunship felt sluggish without its engines. He was almost able to evade the next one too but the left wingtip brushed against the massive plant. Murphy struggled to keep the craft under control and almost succeeded but then the tail fin struck a thick branch. Completely out of control the gunship crashed into a tree sideways. One of its wings bent out of shape the craft fell to the ground like a brick.

* * *

"Foxtrot 1 is down." The operator said, keeping his voice neutral. The captain gritted his teeth in frustration. The worst thing about the situation was that he couldn't launch a rescue operation with the better part of Horizon's defense forces coming at them. Leaving men behind, living or dead, went against everything he'd been taught. Against everything he believed in. But there was nothing he could do.

"Everyone is back on board sir." The tech to his right said. "Well everyone except Foxtrot 1, that is."

"Thank you, chief!" Heisenberg snapped, a little sharper than he'd intended to.

"Torpedoes incoming! Counting eighty-four, ninety, ninety-six!"

"Helm this is the captain. Emergency FTL jump now!"

"But sir! What about Foxtrot 1? We can't just..."

"We have no choice mister Mitchel. Do it!"

"Aye captain."

"Captain look!" The hum of the engines getting louder, captain Richard Heisenberg stared at the screen showing the crashed gunship. The thermal image showed an armored figure crawling out of the wreckage. Then another. And another. The jump to FTL washed away the images. But the captain continued to stare at the now empty screen for quite a while.


	8. Chapter 8

"Wake up." The damned bastard was bothering her. It wasn't the voice so much. Cyra could block that out but whoever tried to deprive her of her well deserved rest was also shaking her. How was she supposed to get any sleep that way? "C'mon lieutenant wake up." The shaking increased. _'Lieutenant?'_ The asari maiden was confused for a moment. _'Oh shit!' _Her eyes popped open.

"Ah welcome back ma'am." She found herself lying on her back with Marlowe and McCoy staring down at her. "You had us worried there."

It took her mind a few seconds to process things. As ordered they'd taken the target to the roof, put him in Robinson's shuttle and covered the retreat of the strike force from the roof before boarding the gunship themselves. At first it had seemed to be a good, clean get-away but then...She scowled. She didn't remember what had happened next. Cyra tried to rise and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in her forehead.

"Easy LT." Marlowe said as she groaned in pain. "You hit your head pretty hard when we crashed." He held up her helmet, showing her the cracked visor to make his point.

The young asari grimaced as her fellow team members pulled her to her feet. A sudden attack of dizziness almost caused her to fall over but the medic managed to hold her upright. "You got a mild concussion lieutenant." The young asian woman said. "I gave you something that should lessen the symptoms, but you need to take it slow for a while still."

"Don't think 'taking it slow for a while' is going to be an option, doc." Marlowe observed.

Cyra closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shake the dizziness before she looked around. The gunship was lying on its side next to a massive tree, a plume of smoke emanating from a hole behind the cockpit. Haggard and Sweetwater were sitting on the ground a few meters away, checking their gear.

"How is everybody?" the young asari asked rubbing her forehead.

"The team is fine." The medic replied with a shrug. "A few bumps and bruises but nothing serious. Don't know about the pilot though."

"What about him?" Cyra inquired, looking for Lieutenant Murphy.

"The cockpit won't open." Marlowe interjected. "He was breathing when I checked a few minutes ago but that's it."

"Did you try the emergency release?"

The corporal's eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course I did."

Cyra grimaced. She had to admit it had been a silly question. The maiden rubbed her forehead, trying to shake the headache. "How long was I out?" She finally asked.

"Not long." McCoy replied at once. " A couple of minutes, just enough to drag you over here."

"Any idea what happened anyway?" Cyra inquired, taking a closer look at the wreck. "The last thing I remember is some kind of explosion. We got hit by triple A or something?"

Marlowe shrugged. "No idea. Murphy should be able to tell us more about that once we get him out of the cockpit." He hesitated for a moment. "IF we get him out."

The young asari took a minute to analyze the overall situation. The only thing she really knew was that something had gone wrong with the mission. A transmission from the Captain just before the explosion had indicated that the strike force had been compromised somehow. As she inspected her surroundings more closely, she couldn't help being amazed that they were still alive. The forest, they'd crashed into wasn't particularly dense but the trees were the largest she'd ever seen. _'Bloody miracle Murphy got us to the ground in one piece'_. The thought sobered her. At least whatever the medic had given her seemed to slowly take effect. The headache was almost gone.

"Haggard, Sweetwater. Get over here." Their heads came around as she addressed them and they started to rise, not without some mumbled protests. "All right, you two." She said to the two privates after they'd walked over. "Try to find a way to open that cockpit."

"Marlowe, McCoy you salvage what you can from the wreck." She held out her hand. " But give me my helmet first corporal." She said, briefly examining the helmet after Marlowe had thrown it to her. The armored visor was destroyed but otherwise it seemed undamaged. She detached the visor and threw it away. "McCoy, I'm gona need your visor." She said to the medic, mentally blessing the engineers who'd been smart enough to make those things interchangeable.

"Of course Lieutenant." While the medic was fumbling with the locking mechanism of her own helmet, Cyra sat down next to a tree, activating her omni-tool. _'About time I started to think about how to get us out of this mess.'_

* * *

Aboard the Wake Island, Robinson took off his own helmet as he watched two Marines escorting the prisoner to the brig. He was glad that he could finally get rid of the damned thing. He hated having to wear armor and for a moment he was tempted to go to his quarters, get a shower and change into a fresh uniform. He decided against it however for Director Fisher wasn't a man one kept waiting. After a brief stop at the armory to check in his pistol, he entered the elevator, thinking about what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Planting a small explosive charge in Lieutenant Murphy's gunship had not been an easy task but detonating it...He stared at his reflection in the polished metal of the elevator interior. Robinson usually wasn't a man who questioned his orders, especially not if they came from the Director of alliance intelligence. After all he didn't intend to stay a for long. Still, killing a squad of alliance soldiers, just because one of them had been a little too curious for his own good, had left a sick feeling in his gut. He tried to shrug it off, thinking that nobody was ever going to know but it worked only partially and he kept pondering all the way to the Director's cabin.

"How is our friend Mauser?" Director Fisher asked, looking at the holographic projection that replaced the window, not even bothering to face the Commander. The stealth ship was now heading for the Iera mass relay at maximum FTL speed, still operating under battle conditions.

"He's fine, at least considering the circumstances." Robinson replied. "They're escorting him to the brig as we speak." He paused for a moment, waiting for a reaction. When none came he continued. "You can go and see him any time you want to."

Still no reaction. The Director stood in front of the projection like a statue and Robinson waited behind him, not knowing what to do. He was about to ask about Bravo Team when Fisher finally spoke up. "I'm not in a hurry." He said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Let him stew for a while."

The Director went silent again and continued to stare at the holo-projection for a few moments before he finally turned to his subordinate. "Right now we have an other problem." He said. "It would seem the spec ops team survived the crash of their gunship."

Robinson had to fight to keep an even face, despite the strange wave of relief that washed over him. "But that's..." he began but Fisher interrupted him.

"...Hard to believe I know but the pilot somehow managed to set it down in the middle of a forest."

He gave the Commander a pointed look. "It would seem the charge was a little too small."

Robinson frowned, angry at the implication that he'd screwed up. "I beg your pardon Sir but It was difficult enough to smuggle a small charge onto the gunship. I didn't have time to prepare a bigger one."

The faintest shadow of a smile seemed to creep onto the Director's face. "I was merely stating the obvious Commander." He said calmly. Robinson shifted uncomfortably under Fischer's cool gaze. For some reason it felt like the Director could see right into his soul."Anyway we need our agents on the surface to deal with this. I need a secure connection to Horizon as soon as we drop below FTL speed."

"Is there a problem?" He asked when Robinson hesitated.

The intelligence officer took a deep breath. "No Sir!"

Fisher's eye became a tad more piercing. "Good, then you're dismissed." He said, his cold stare fixed on Robinson's back as he left the room. It didn't bode well that the younger man seemed to have developed a conscience all of a sudden. He would have to deal with that before he left the ship again but first he needed to prevent the special forces team from ever leaving Horizon again. The agents he had planetside were all hand picked. He didn't have to worry about any of them having scruples.

* * *

Cyra scowled at the holographic map, projected by her omni-tool. What had been bad enough became worse on more thorough examination. The team was stranded in the middle of nowhere, about thirty-five kilometers away from their objective and more than a hundred and fifty from Horizons only space-port. She briefly tore her eyes away from the map. Marlowe and McCoy were just finishing to carry the rest of their gear and the gunship's emergency supplies over.

"How's it looking Corporal?" She asked as the sniper sat down beside her.

"Most of our gear survived the crash." Marlowe replied as he took off his helmet, briefly running his hand through the sweaty black hair, before he put it back on. "Your rifle didn't I am afraid. Looks like the ammo generator is broken."

The young asari sighed and checked her sidearm to make sure at least the pistol was still working. She went back to studying the holo-map with Marlowe looking over her shoulder. McCoy joined them after a minute, quietly going through a box, containing the gunship's emergency supplies. Marlowe was about to ask the Lieutenant what the plan was when raised voices stopped him.

The trio's heads went up, wondering what the fuss was about. Haggard and Sweetwater argued quite loudly, gesturing wildly.

"Hags, what the hell are you doing?" The tech demanded heatedly as Haggard activated his omni-tool.

"We ain't got all day all right?" The demo-expert retorted with equal fury, using the holographic user interface to program a specific sequence into his hard-suit's computer. "If you got a better idea I am all ears, otherwise we'll do this my way!"

"No?" He added after a moment as he knelt down. "Here we go then." He said pointing the activated omni-tool at the gunship. Cyra frowned and switched of her own as she started to rise. _'I'd better have a look what that's about.' _

"Hey wait!" Sweetwater yelled before she could even begin to move towards them. The tech tried to grab Haggard's left arm but the demo-expert shoved his hand away.

"Fire in the hole!" He shouted before Sweetwater could make another attempt. His omni-tool emitted precisely timed directed signals towards the gunship. Cyra stopped dead in her tracks as several small explosions tore open the gunship's cockpit. _'What the hell...?'_

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" The tech screamed, stepping towards his team mate his face contorted with anger but Haggard stood his ground.

"We needed to get the cockpit open and it is open so what the hell do you want huh?" He growled. "You wanna stumble around until Horizon's finest drop by or what?"

"Oh sure!" Sweetwater retorted sarcastically. "Lets just blow it to hell right? Who cares if the pilot gets torn to pieces! At least the cockpit is open."

"I didn't blow anyone to pieces stupid! I know what I am doing for fuck's sake!"

"Who are you calling..."

Cyra was finally able to shake her paralysis and she ran towards the yelling men with Marlowe and McCoy in tow. "You two get Murphy out of there." She ordered, not even bothering to check if they'd understood.

"Hey!" She yelled as she stepped between the arguing soldiers, glad that she'd reached them before things got out of hand. "Calm the fuck down!"

"But he..." They both started to say but the asari Lieutenant cut them off.

"Quiet! We don't have time to fool around!" She shouted. "Did any of you geniuses even bother to check whether Murphy was still alive before you leaped at the other's throat?"

"No?" She said before any of them could answer. "Then I suggest you two get your act together right now! Go and help your comrades getting him out of there. Move it!" She pushed them towards the gunship.

"Come on LT he just..." Sweetwater tried to say but was cut off again.

"We'll talk about this later! Right now we got work to do."

It took them almost ten minutes to get the pilot out of his metal prison. At one point he'd actually regained consciousness but McCoy had to sedate him again because he seemed to be in a lot of pain. As they lay the wounded man on the ground next to the gunship, Cyra took a brief look at the cockpit, impressed that Haggard had actually managed to crack it open without hurting the occupant. The asari maiden briefly checked for anything useful before she knelt down next to Murphy. The medic was just getting to work, starting with an in depth medical scan. Cyra watched the human woman for a few moments, but since there was nothing she could do to help she figured she'd better get out of the way and focus on her own job. She sat down on a rock a few meters away and called up the holo-map again.

"So what's the plan LT?" The young asari turned around to see Marlowe looking over her shoulder.

"We need to get moving as soon as we can." She replied. "We have to get off this planet somehow."

"Do you think the planetary defense knows we're here?" The Corporal asked.

Cyra shook her head. "Unlikely, if they saw us going down, I figure they would be here by now. But the longer we stay here the bigger the chance that a patrol or a satellite scan picks up the wreckage."

The sniper frowned. "You really think they send patrols out here?"

"To be honest, I have no idea Corporal but I'd rather not hang around to find out."

"Yeah you got a point there Lieutenant." He said, shifting to get a better look on the map. Cyra let her eyes wander around the crash-site, looking for Haggard and Sweetwater. They were checking their gear carefully, still casting the occasional venomous glare at one another. She beckoned them over.

"Okay people." She began when the three of them were gathered around her. "That's the situation."

She explained a few minutes, showing them their position relative to their objective and Horizon's capital on the map. "As you can see we crashed pretty much in the middle of nowhere. The only way to leave the planet is the space-port in the capital. So we...yes private?" She asked when she saw Sweetwater raise a hand.

"I s'pose we can't count on a alliance rescue operation..?" He asked.

"Yeah right." Haggard snorted snidely before Cyra could answer. "Like they are going to risk that after we stirred up the hornet's nest. They'll just write us off as 'acceptable losses'. In short: we're fucked."

"Are you finished private?" The asari maiden snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously. That and the strain in her voice told the demo-expert that this was probably not the right time for smart-assed comments.

"Yes ma'am, sorry."

"Anyway, as I was saying.." She continued after giving Haggard another venomous look. "The only way the only way to leave this rock is Discovery space-port."

"But that's almost a hundred and fifty klicks." Sweetwater blurted out. Cyra inhaled sharply and she had to suppress the urge to yell at the private for interrupting her. Even so her voice became quite a bit louder when she started to speak again.

"Actually it's a bit more private!" She growled trying to calm down. "However, with a little luck we won't have to cover the whole distance on foot." She played with her omni-tool's controls, enlarging a part of the map. "Intel says its a low level research outpost. Mission data doesn't say what they are researching, but whatever it is I think it's safe to assume they have some kind of vehicle there we should be able to snatch." She said further enlarging the picture of the building.

She gave Sweetwater a pointed look. "And yes, I know it's still a bit over forty-five klicks. So, we got a lot of walking ahead of us either way."

"Begging your pardon ma'am." McCoy's voice came from behind her. "But that may be a problem."

"Corporal?" Cyra asked. "How's Lieutenant Murphy?"

The medic knelt down and activated her own omni-tool before she replied. "Considering the circumstances he's fine." She paused for a moment to point at the projection of Murphy's medical scan. "Except for the lower right leg and therein lies the problem. Both, tibia and fibula are broken in several places and on top of that the kneecap is shattered."

Cyra frowned and tried to make sense of the picture the human woman showed her. She wished, she'd have payed closer attention in the medicine classes during basic training instead of fooling around at the rear of the group. 'Just slap medi-gel on everything' had been her motto back then and now she cursed herself for it. The last few day had shown her that, sadly, in reality things weren't that simple.

"As you can see the Lieutenant isn't going to walk anywhere anytime soon."

Cyra shifted uncomfortably as she felt the eyes of her team on her. They were obviously waiting for their leader's next brilliant idea. _'Why the hell me?'_ She thought. _'It's only my second time out and they are way more experienced than I am! Why are they looking at me like that for crying out loud?'_ She felt lost. _'Because that's what you're here for! You're the officer remember? Act like one damn it!'_ She pulled herself together and forced her thoughts back to the problem at hand instead of feeling sorry for herself. She turned to the medic.

"I don't suppose there's an extra stretcher in the gunship's emergency supplies, Corporal?"

"I am afraid not, no." The smaller woman replied, shaking her head. "There are some thermo-blankets, a canteen of water and a few emergency ration bars. But that's it."

Cyra looked at the unconscious pilot. For a second the thought of leaving him behind crossed her mind but she pushed it aside right away, ashamed that she'd even considered it. But how could they get him out of here?

"Sweetwater!"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Go through the gunship again, look for anything we could use to improvise a stretcher. Haggard, you look around out here! Go!"

"And what are we supposed to do, Lieutenant?" Marlowe asked.

"You two help me think."

* * *

It took them a while but eventually they'd assembled an acceptable substitute for a regular stretcher, using two thick and reasonably straight branches, a metal plate from the gunship and two blankets. After making sure the contraption would really hold, they carefully lifted Murphy on it and covered him with another blanket. As the team got ready to move out, Cyra went through the gunship one last time to make sure they left nothing useful behind. Not that she expected to find anything the others hadn't but she wanted to be certain. Some additional emergency rations in particular would be a nice thing to find. Every alliance soldier carried two bars in a special pouch on his belt and the gunship's emergency supplies had contained half a dozen more. One of those was enough to keep a soldier going for a day but she would have felt safer with some more supplies. At least water wasn't going to be a problem. The map showed plenty of streams on the way to the lab.

She left the passenger compartment and walked to the cockpit where Sweetwater just finished downloading the gunship's flight recorder data.

"Almost done LT." He said when he saw her approach. Next the tech used his omni-tool to overload the gunship's computers, destroying all the data that could show where the craft was coming from and what it was doing here.

"Finished." He said, crawling out of the cockpit.

Cyra beckoned him to follow and walked over to the rest of the team. She checked her omni-tool's chronometer. They'd been on the ground close to two hours now. At least the crash obviously hadn't been detected by anyone. It was of course still possible that the gunship would be found eventually but for the time being they were fairly safe.

"Everybody good to go?" She asked. No one bothered to say anything. They all just nodded. Cyra took another look at the map to get her bearings.

"Haggard, Sweetwater, you carry Murphy. We'll switch after half an hour. Marlowe you take the rear. Follow me."

The asari Lieutenant waited for a moment as the privates carefully picked up the stretcher. Then, at a steady pace, she led her team into the quiet forest in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

Lieutenant Cyra Shepard groaned as she sat down leaning against one of the massive trees of this forest. They had kept going for over sixteen standard hours with only a few short breaks and the armor plates prevented her from massaging her hurting thighs. As useful and live-saving the heavy armor suit was in combat it had become quite obvious that it wasn't designed with long marches in mind. The young asari had to smirk at the thought that even something as simple as urinating required quite a lengthy procedure. She looked up when Marlowe sat down beside her.

"Well, wasn't that a nice walk in the park?" He joked with a tired smile.

"It sure was." Cyra chuckled. "But where the hell is the hotel?"

"Yeah the organization sucks." The sniper agreed grinning. "We should demand a refund!"

He took a bite from one of his ration bars and grimaced.

"You know, I've always wondered: If scientists can develop a bar that gives the body everything it needs in a day, why can't they make it taste like something you'd want to eat?"

"Beats me." Cyra shrugged. "But from what I heard the rations in the asari fleet aren't any better. Maybe it's some secret law of nature."

Now it was Marlowe's turn to chuckle. "Wouldn't surprise me the least." He pretended to give it some thought. "Makes you wonder what turian rations taste like."

"If you really want to know I am sure I can arrange something once we're outta here."

"Nah, I am good, really."

"Anyway" The asari maiden smirked." If we're going to make a complaint we better include the quality of the food too."

"I hear ya Lieutenant." He grinned, leaning against the tree trunk and closing his eyes for a moment.

"We'll stay here for a couple of hours." She said getting serious again. After taking a brief look at the surroundings she pointed at a small elevation about fifty meters away. "Get up there, I'll join you in a few minutes. We'll take the first guard shift."

He mumbled a confirmation, picked up his rifle and walked away. Cyra went over to the Haggard and Sweetwater and told them to get some rest. They got themselves into a reasonably comfortable position and fell asleep almost immediately. The asari maiden had to suppress a yawn, a couple of hours of sleep seemed awfully appealing to her right now. She shook her head, trying to shake the fatigue as she walked over to Murphy and McCoy. The pilot was awake now, wincing in pain once or twice, as the medic checked his broken leg.

"Hey Murph." Cyra said as she knelt down besides the improvised stretcher. "How are you doing?"

"I am fine, well more or less anyway." He replied and tried to smile but it came out looking like a tight-lipped grimace. "I kinda wished I'd stayed in bed this morning though." He added, his teeth clenched together.

The young asari snorted. "Don't we all." She smiled, watching the human woman as she injected a pain killer into the pilot's neck. "I hate to bother you with this right now, Murph." She said, turning back to the Flight Lieutenant. "But have you any idea what happened?"

"You mean why we crashed?" He asked, continuing when she nodded. "To tell you the truth I don't really know. I can only tell you that the gunship's sensors didn't pick up any incoming threats or anything. So unless our friends of the Horizon planetary defense came up with something new, which is unlikely, we didn't get shot down." He paused for a moment giving it some further thought.

"Must have been an internal explosion of some kind, although I've never heard of a malfunction like that in a A-64." He shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't tell you anything else. I didn't really have time to analyze the VI's damage report." He finished with a smirk.

"I can imagine." Cyra replied ruefully. "Anyway do you think you'd be able to figure out what went wrong with the flight recorder data?"

Murphy's eyebrows shot up. "You downloaded the flight recorder?" He slightly shifted his weight, trying to sit up but the medic stopped him midway. The pilot sighed, lay back down and activated his omni-tool. "Hell yeah, with that data I should be able to find out what happened. Could take a while though."

"There's no rush really." Cyra said as she started the file transfer. "You should get some rest and..."

"Bah!" The pilot growled with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've been resting all day. I'll have a look right away. At least I won't feel completely useless then."

Cyra had to frown at that."You got us on the ground in one piece. Thanks to you we're still alive. I'd say you did more than enough for today."

For a moment he stared at her, unsure what to say. "Oh bugger off Shepard!" He finally exclaimed. "You're making me blush."

The young asari rose and walked away with a smile on her face until McCoy ran up to her and started to speak in a low voice. "Lieutenant can I talk to for a minute?"

Cyra turned around. Her smile vanished when she noticed the look of concern on the medic's face. "What is it corporal?"

"I did some additional scans on Lieutenant Murphy's leg." McCoy said. She hesitated, took a deep breath and then continued with a rush. "The damage is worse than I first thought. "She showed Cyra several pictures of medical scans. "As you can see there is a lot of bleeding, bone marrow leaking out. You can see it here and here" The medic jabbed her index finger at specific points on the holographic image. "I can keep it under control with medi-gel but I don't have an endless supply and..."

The asari Lieutenant raised a hand. McCoy was talking way to fast for her taste. "Slow down Corporal, just give me the quick version all right?"

The medic bit her lip. "If he doesn't get to a hospital soon he may lose the leg." She paused for a heartbeat. "Or worse."

Cyra groaned inwardly. '_As if things weren't complicated enough already.'_ Aloud she said: "Define 'soon'."

"Within the next few days. I can't give you an exact number but the sooner he gets surgery, the better. I am already running low on gel. I used a lot to patch up Blackburn."

The asari maiden breathed deeply. A pictured of the private's mangled body suddenly appeared in front of her inner eye and she briefly wondered if he'd made it. "Okay, thank you Corporal." She said, trying to shake the gruesome images.

The asian medic grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away. "Lieutenant, what are we going to do?"

Cyra frowned. "We're going to get him to a hospital of course." She said confidently." And you get some rest now Corporal."

"But..."

"McCoy, is there anything you can do at this time that will improve the situation?"

"No, ma'am but..."

"No buts!" Cyra growled impatiently. "We're going to move out in less than six hours. Get some rest while you still can."

"Aye, Lieutenant."

Cyra watched the medic walk away and wished she really felt that confident. They'd covered close to two thirds of the distance to the research base but it was still quite some distance to go. She hoped to reach the facility in another eight to ten hours but the map that was stored in her hard-suit computer wasn't very detailed and it was possible there were natural obstacles in the way it didn't show. And even if they got there without any trouble there was no guarantee they really would find a vehicle there they could use for the rest of the trip. The maiden shook her head and forced herself to get back to the problems at hand. It was useless to rack her brain about things she could do nothing about at the moment.

McCoy was just sitting down next to the wounded pilot, asking him if he needed anything else. Cyra had to admit, the human's endurance surprised her. Her first impression of the small woman had been that a stiff breeze would blow her over. But not only had she kept up with them, she seemed to be able to cope with the long march better than the much tougher looking men. There was something odd about her however, Cyra mused. She couldn't quite put her finger on it but the medic seemed out of place somehow. The asari maiden shrugged, putting those thoughts aside. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to go through McCoy's file. She had enough other things to worry about.

As she walked towards the elevation where Marlowe was standing on guard, Cyra noticed once again how quiet the forest was. Aside from the rustling of leaves as a cool breeze swept through the canopy above, the only other thing she could hear was a faint humming that came from small flying insects. She'd read somewhere that some of the flying insect analogues that had developed on Horizon could grow quite large but evidently they were found on a different part of the planet. Still they'd come across some quite bizarre looking creatures on their way here. One had looked like a small, walking bush, another like a five meter long centipede. There were no vertebrae, no birds to be found on Horizon however. The sound of birds chirping was what this forest lacked in the young asari's eyes. Somehow the forests on Virmire or her parents' home planets had seemed much nicer to her. _'On the other hand I didn't have to walk through those in full armor after crashing with a gunship.'_ She thought. _'I am not here to enjoy the landscape anyway.'_

"Is something wrong with Murphy?" Corporal Marlowe asked when she joined him. "I saw the doc talking to you." He added, seeing the quizzical look on her face.

"She said if we don't get him to a hospital soon he could lose the leg." Cyra informed him with a sigh.

"Soon?" His eyebrows shot up. "Define soon, ma'am."

Despite herself the asari had to smile as he repeated the question she had asked herself a minute ago.

"Soon as in 'the next couple of days'" Cyra said, trying not to laugh but Marlowe noticed her amusement anyway.

"Did I say something funny, LT?" He asked in astonishment.

"Nah, not really." She replied, shaking her head. "But I just asked her pretty much the same thing and...Well when I am tired I tend to find the oddest things funny."

"Oh." He grinned. "Hell of a day so far eh?"

"Indeed." She said, closed her visor and started to scan the surroundings for anything potentially dangerous, stifling another yawn. The two of them stood there in silence as the sky slowly darkened.

"Lieutenant, can I ask you something?" The sniper asked after a while.

"Sure."

"Something personal."

That surprised the young asari. She turned around and opened her visor, wondering what Marlowe wanted to know.

"Shoot!" She said as her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness.

He hesitated and for a second she had the odd feeling he needed to decide what to ask.

"What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me?" Now that was a question she hadn't seen coming. "What do you mean, Corporal?"

"I don't mean 'here' as in this place." He said. "I mean here as in the Marines, the alliance, the military, ma'am." He hastily continued when he noticed her frown. "I mean you're the daughter of one of the most famous men in the known universe, your family is very wealthy...Surely you had other options than this."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "How the hell do you know about my family's financial situation? Is that common knowledge these days?"

Marlowe uneasily shifted from one foot to the other. "Well errr..." He stumbled. "Sweetwater did a little hmm... background check on you." He replied.

"Oh come on LT!" He exclaimed. "You can't blame us for wanting to know who is leading us into combat, can you?"

"Shhhh!" She hissed angrily. "Not so loud, damn it!"

"I'll have a little chat with mister Sweetwater once we're off this rock." She added after cooling down somewhat. "And the next time you comedians want to know something, fucking ask directly instead of checking me out behind my back. Is that clear?"

Marlowe mumbled an apologetic 'yes ma'am' and went silent. From time to time he cast her a glance trying to tell if she'd calmed down enough so that she wouldn't rip his head off if he asked again. When she took a bite from one of her ration bars, washing the rubber-like substance down with water from her canteen he figured he could risk it. Not that he was afraid of the young asari but he didn't want to piss her off in a situation like this. After all he knew from experience that an ordinary soldier's life could get really miserable, not to mention short, if a superior had it in for him.

The sniper cleared his throat, preparing for a rebuke. "So why are you here, LT?" He inquired when none came. "You wanted to follow in your father's footsteps?" He added when she didn't answer right away.

Cyra continued to scan for potential threats, wondering whether a private conversation was a good idea right now. "That was only a part of it." She finally replied as she saw no harm in a chat. It could help her to stay awake after all. "There are many reasons why I joined the alliance, for one I am not the academic type." She threw him a pointed look. "As I am certain you know, my parents could have afforded to send me to any university in the galaxy." She shrugged. "But that was the last thing I wanted."

"Sweetwater said you'd been a pretty good skyball player before you joined...?"

"I guess I was." Cyra giggled softly. "A professional, thessian Team actually offered me a contract."

"Wait a minute." Marlowe could scarcely believe it. "You chose military service over a career that could have made you rich and famous?"

Cyra snorted derogatorily. "If you think being famous is a great thing, think again Corporal."

"Well, I wouldn't mind." He replied with a smirk.

"I bet you wouldn't." The asari maiden growled. "Until every time you smiled at someone at a public event some fool of a journalist would write an extranet article, romantically linking you to that person."

"That happened to you?"

"Since I was forty." She sighed rolling her eyes. "It got to the point where I would always get...Oh wipe that silly grin off your face, will ya, Corporal? That's not funny!"

"Sorry, Lieutenant." Marlowe said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. He turned away and the young asari heard sounds that indicated he was desperately trying to keep himself from laughing out loud. For a moment Cyra felt insulted but then she suddenly found herself struggling to hold back her own laughter. The whole situation was simply too bizarre. Here she was in the middle of nowhere, stranded behind the enemy lines and she was complaining about headline hungry journalists. _'Get a grip girl.'_ She thought, giving herself a mental kick in the rear.

"So you joined the Alliance to get out of the limelight?" He asked as he faced her again, obviously still fighting to keep a straight face.

"Well, I certainly didn't want to draw even more attention to myself, becoming a professional skyball player." She thought about it for a minute, Marlowe waiting patiently for her to go on. "Besides, I've always considered professional sport to be awfully trivial and I'd rather make a real difference."

"Why not both?" He asked curiously. "I mean you could have played skyball professionally for a few decades and joined the alliance later."

"Yeah I could have." She admitted. "But pirate and slaver attacks on border colonies are increasing right NOW. And my family is living on a border world so..."

"I see." Marlowe replied thoughtfully. "You got three sisters right?"

"Yeah." The sudden change in subject surprised her a little. "Looks like Sweetwater was thorough." She mumbled, more to herself than to her subordinate.

"No Lieutenant, that's actually common knowledge."

"Of course. I almost forgot. Those damned tabloids." Cyra growled. "Don't they have more important things to write about? Seriously."

"Well, you can't really blame people for wanting to read about the 'savior of the galaxy' and his family, can you?"

"Corporal, in case you ever meet my dad, I wouldn't call him like this if I were you." The asari maiden stated. "In his eyes it's an insult to everybody else who fought and died in the war against the reapers." She smirked. "Last year he broke a reporter's nose because of that."

"I'll keep it in mind." Marlowe chuckled softly. "That vid was quite popular on the extranet wasn't it?"

Cyra nodded with a grin. The reporter in question had been compensated quite handsomely. When she had asked him about it, her father had laughed and said that it had been worth every penny.

She checked her suit's chronometer. Still more than two hours to go on her guard shift. She breathed deeply. Those were going to be two long hours.

"Do you have any siblings, Marlowe?"

"Corporal?" She asked when he didn't react.

"Hm?" He shook his head and covered his mouth with one hand. "Sorry LT, I guess I am a little more tired than I thought." Cyra watched in astonishment as he walked to a tree and banged his helmeted head against the trunk.

"What was that supposed to be good for?" She inquired as he came back.

"Chief Redford claimed it helped against tiredness." He replied. "I thought it was worth a try."

"Did it?"

He grimaced. "A little bit. Anyway what did you want to know?"

"I asked, if you had any siblings."

"Yeah, an older sister."

"Is she with the alliance too?"

"Na, she's with C-Sec, just like my parents." Marlowe replied with a hint of disdain in his voice.

"Is something wrong with that?"

"Not really no." He said with a shrug. "It's just...Well there has been some bad blood when I decided to join the alliance. Especially between my father and me. He wanted me to be another 'honest and hard-working' C-Sec officer."

"Obviously you didn't want to."

"Nope. I didn't wanna get stuck on the citadel like the rest of my family."

"You didn't like living on the citadel?" Cyra was surprised to hear that. "I always found it a fascinating place to be."

Marlowe snorted. "Trust me Lieutenant. It is a lot less fascinating when you've grown up there, when you've lived your entire life on that damned station." The sniper scowled. "I mean, I never left the citadel until I enlisted. The first time I ever set foot on a planet was during basic training."

"Hmm yeah I can see how..." Her voice trailed off when the Corporal held up a hand, then raised his assault rifle.

"You hear that, Lieutenant?" He whispered.

Her fatigue instantly forgotten, she listened intently, taking her pistol out of the magnetic holster on her hip. The weapon shuddered slightly as the frame expanded, then suddenly Cyra heard a faint clicking. Using hand signals she told Marlowe to go to a large boulder, about twenty-five meters away. He acknowledged the order with a nod and slowly started to move into position, moving a silently as he could. Cyra quickly checked her pistol and carefully walked around a tree, trying to find out was was making that strange noise but all she could see was a blue gleam of light. The clicking stopped a for a few seconds, then resumed gradually getting louder.

Cyra activated her radio. "Marlowe, do you see anything from your position?" She whispered.

"Negative, all I see is a weird blue light in the same direction the sound's coming from."

"Roger, I see it too." She breathed, thinking about what to do next.

"Lieutenant, if I move to my right a bit, I should be able to see it." The Corporal suggested in a low voice.

"Okay, do it." She whispered back. "But be very careful."

"Wilco." The asari maiden heard a faint rustling as he started to move. She knelt down and raised her pistol, aiming in the general direction of the light. Seconds seemed to draw out to minutes as adrenalin was released into her bloodstream, quickening her heartbeat considerably. She was so tense, she flinched when she heard the sniper laugh.

"Marlowe what is it?" She hissed into her helmet's microphone.

"It's nothing LT." He replied in amusement. "Just a another bug."

"What?"

"It's a bug. Ah, some sort of flying insect. It's wings are making that weird sound."

"And the light?"

"That's also coming from the insect, it...Ah screw it, it's coming your way. You should be able to see it in a few moments."

Cyra lowered her weapon slightly and waited. She exhaled the breath she had been holding as the creature finally appeared. As Marlowe had said it was a flying insect but its size amazed the young asari. It seemed to be at least as large as the german shepherd she'd had as a child. When it landed she could make you three pairs of nearly transparent wings but the most peculiar thing about the creature was it's brightly glowing tail section that bathed the surrounding forest in a eerie blue light.

She continued to watch the insect as it lifted off and slowly flew away. Next she called Marlowe back to the original position.

"Okay, I think we better go back to being Marines." She said. "If that had been a patrol or something, we'd be in trouble right now. You stay here. I am going to have a look around the camp."

"Aye Lieutenant." Marlowe replied with a nod.

"And Corporal?"

"Ma'am?"

"I enjoyed our chat." She said with a smile.

He hesitated, seemed unsure what to say. "So did I." He finally replied, returning her smile.

_'Was that the right thing to say?' _She wondered as she walked away. During her training it had been stressed over and over that as an officer she shouldn't get too friendly with her subordinates. When she'd talked to her father about that he'd shrugged, claiming he'd never cared about 'getting too close'. But he'd also said that, the closer she got to her people the more painful it would be if she lost one of them. She put those thoughts aside. She was too tired to worry about the possible consequences of her chat with Marlowe. However as she walked around the camp, her fatigue returning with a vengeance, she caught herself wondering what her parents were doing right now.

* * *

"I am getting too old for this shit." The ex-alliance Commander Marcus Shepard sighed as Shiala finished doing up his tie.

"No, you don't." The purple skinned asari said. Her emerald eyes glinted with amusement as she took a step back, contemplating her bondmate's appearance. The retired spectre had never been very fond of the annual festivities, celebrating the end of the galactic war. He would have preferred to remember the fallen quietly. Tonight however was just a dinner with the citadel council, high-ranking diplomats and military officers of the council races and their families. The real celebrations would be tomorrow.

"Oh come on dear. Why are you looking like that?" Shiala asked seeing his long face. "Don't forget, Garrus and Kelly will be there, maybe even Kasumi."

His mood seemed to improve somewhat. "At least something." He muttered under his breath, then grinned. "We need to tell the girls to watch their purses closely if Kasumi is around."

Shiala smiled, stepped closer and kissed him on the tip of his nose. "See? That's better." She said, looking in his eyes. "You're worried about Cyra, aren't you?" She asked, sensing the real reason for his bad mood.

He sighed again. "Yes, I am. I don't like this 'highly classified operation' they sent her on." He growled. "Hell, not even Joker has been able to find out something about it."

"Don't you worry about her at all?" He inquired as they slowly made their way to their daughters' room, hand in hand.

"Of course I do." She replied softly. "But nowhere nearly as much as I would, if she'd joined a mercenary company like so many other maidens still do."

"I should have tried to talk her out of it."

"She's old enough to make her own decisions. You know that as well as I do, dear." Shiala reminded her bondmate, despite the fact that she, herself, hadn't been overly happy about Cyra's choice of career.

"I know, I know." He grumbled. "But still...Ah, never mind. Maybe I am just being paranoid." He tried to think of something else to talk about. He didn't want to disturb his two youngest daughters with a bad mood. Besides he could use a distraction himself.

"How's Ash doing anyway?" He asked, referring to their second oldest daughter. "You spoke to her yesterday, didn't you?"

"She's still settling in." Shiala smiled, glad to be able to change the subject. "She said that Earth was a little too crowded for her taste."

Marcus Shepard smirked. "I suspected as much. But everyone I talked to agreed that the MIT was the best place to study starship-engineering and mass effect physics so..."

"Oh don't worry about it dear." His wife interrupted him. "She wasn't upset or anything, she just stated it matter-of-factly." She smiled remembering the conversation. "She also said she regretted, she didn't have the time to come to the citadel this year."

The retired spectre guffawed. "Yeah right!" He cackled. "I am sure she was so very, very sorry about that."

Ashley had always hated, having to go to any kind of celebration. It had usually taken a lot of persuading to get her to dress up and come along. When she'd turned fifty she'd actually tried to sneak out of her own birthday party.

He continued to chuckle all the way to the girls' room. The door opened with a faint hiss before any of them could press the bell button. The aging human had to pull himself together to keep himself from gaping at his own daughter as she stepped out of the room. The fifty-three year old Rhea looked simply stunning. Tall and elegant with, amongst asari incredibly rare, natural turquoise colored skin, large blue eyes and a dazzling smile, she was an exceptional beauty. As if that wasn't enough she'd forced her shapely body in a silvery-white dress that seemed to be somewhat too small, revealing a little too much for her father's taste.

"Where is Hannah?" He asked when he finally regained his ability to speak.

"She's waiting in the lobby." Rhea said and strode towards the elevator, moving so gracefully in her high-heels, that the retired spectre couldn't help but wonder if his daughter had somehow managed to bend the laws of physics in her favor. Then again he'd been asking himself that every time he'd seen her on a catwalk since she'd started modeling part-time a few years ago. "I suppose I took a little too long to dress up and she got tired of waiting." She added as they entered the elevator together.

"Speaking of your dress." He inquired as the doors closed. "Are you sure, whoever sold it to you didn't rip you off?"

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Well, it seems to me it could use a little more material here and there."

"Come on Dad." Rhea giggled, playfully slapping his right arm. "Don't be a prude!"

"Yes, don't be a prude, dear." Shiala interjected with a feral smile, amused at her bondmate's slight discomfort.

He glanced back and forth at the two of them. "Aw-haw-haw. Fun-ny!" He growled, raising his arms in defeat. Both asari laughed merrily right until the doors reopened at the ground floor of the citadel's most expensive hotel.

"There you are." Hannah greeted them, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other. "We're running late." She grabbed her father's hand, dragging him along.

Next to her three year older sister, fifty year old Hannah looked fairly unremarkable. Blue-skinned, of average height and build, she didn't care too much about her looks, wearing a simple, black dress.

"Jesus, slow down, girl." He protested as they left the hotel through the front door, almost running. "We're a little late, so what? The universe isn't going to end because of that. Hell, with a little luck we may even miss one or two boring speeches."

"I don't want to make a bad impression, come on!"

Marcus Shepard, raised a brow, looking at his youngest daughter suspiciously. "Why do care about that so much, hm? Is there somebody in particular you don't want to make a bad impression on?"

That caused her to slow down a little. "Err...no not really, I just don't want to be late, that's all."

The retired spectre sighed as Hannah increased the pace again. The youngest of his four children had always been the most determined. From an early age she'd said that she wanted to fly, wanted to be a pilot someday. A few years ago she'd talked her parents into paying her flying lessons and nowadays, whenever anybody of the family needed to go somewhere, it was usually Hannah behind the controls of their private ship. In recent months he had often heard her talk about the new generation of alliance starfighters. He suspected that she intended to apply for a spot in the alliance fighter pilot training program and therefore was worried about what the admirals present at the dinner would think if she was late.

_'Two of my girls serving in the alliance?' _He didn't know how to feel about that.

"Don't you worry about it kiddo." He said. "If anybody is going to be frowned at for being late, it'll be your old father. And he doesn't care." He added with a grin.

Another elevator ride and a couple of security checks later, the four of them stepped inside a hall situated near the top of the citadel tower. If anyone noticed they were late none showed it. Soft music, played by a life-band on the other side of the room caressed the retired spectres' ears as the seemingly endless procedure of shaking hands, and polite greetings began. In the next room an army of stewards were putting delicacies from all over the universe on several large tables.

* * *

Some time later Marcus Shepard had retreated to the side of the room with a glass of champagne. He pretended to study a large plant, trying to escape unwanted attention.

"Hey Shep." A female voice came from his right just as he was taking a sip.

"Kelly!" He exclaimed. "Or should I say: Councilor Chambers?"

"Kelly will do just fine." She smiled, stepping closer to hug him. "It's good to see you, Marcus."

"Yeah you too, Kelly." He took a step back to look at her more closely. The years had been kind to the human woman. The signs of age were not too visible in her face and her eyes were as lively as ever.

"So tell me." She grinned. "Have you become a botanist when I wasn't looking?"

"Oh it's a beautiful plant, don't you think?" He said returning her grin. "But actually I was studying it out of a sense of self preservation really. I am afraid, if I hear the words 'so nice to meet you' a few more times, my ears will begin to bleed."

"I know what you mean." Kelly giggled, taking a sip from her own glass, letting her gaze wander across the room.

"Is Garrus here anyway?" He inquired. "I haven't seen him anywhere so far."

"Yeah, he's around." She replied. "Easy to miss in a crowd like that."

"Commander Shepard?"

"Yes?" The retired spectre turned around, irritated at the interruption. He didn't bother to tell the young, human C-Sec officer that he'd left service more than half a century ago. People usually insisted to call him 'Commander Shepard' anyway.

"What is it, son?" He asked impatiently.

"I am sorry to disturb you, sir." The younger man said uneasily holding up a data pad. "But I have an urgent message for you, from Admiral Moreau."

Kelly's eyebrows shot up. "Joker? What could he possibly have to tell you that can't wait?"

Marcus Shepard had a bad feeling as he took the data pad from the officer. He'd thought exactly the same thing. He switched on the data pad. The message wasn't long. The retired spectre blanched when he read it. His smile vanishing he hectically looked around the room.

"What is it?" Kelly asked.

He didn't answer, he just handed her the data pad and walked into the crowd, looking for his wife. He found her talking to the asari councilor. Mumbling 'excuse me councilor', he grabbed her arm, dragging her to the side of the room regardless of her protests.

"What are you doing?" Shiala wanted to say but stopped mid sentence when she saw the look on his face. "What is it?" She whispered anxiously.

He looked in her eyes and took a deep breath. "Cyra is MIA."

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with one hand to hide how shocked she was. "What?"

"MIA." He repeated. "I just got a Message from Joker. They think she's still alive but I don't know anything else." He continued in a rush. "Listen dear. Can you please look after the girls? I'm going to make a couple of calls."

She swallowed hard but nodded. "Yes of course." She said hoarsely. "Go."

He kissed her on the forehead and headed for the exit in a hurry. A C-Sec Lieutenant leading the guards on the door stopped him.

"Sir, where are you going? The dinner will be served soon."

"They will either have to wait for me or start without me. I have some things I must see to. Now get out of my way, Lieutenant."

"But Sir, I can't..."

"Lieutenant!" Shepard snarled angrily. "You seem to have a hearing problem so one more time: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!"

The C-Sec Lieutenant gaped at him for a second then stepped aside, watching the older man practically run towards the elevator with a furious look on his face.


	10. Chapter 10

Cyra felt as if she'd only just closed her eyes when drops of water, falling on her face, woke her up again. She grimaced when she checked the chronometer and realized it really had been a little over two and a half hours since she'd gone to sleep. It would be time to move out soon. It was still dark and thanks to Horizon's unusually long day it would be at least another eight hours until dawn. She closed the visor, looking around the camp for a moment. It was raining quite heavily, she saw. The trees held off some of it but there was enough coming through the canopy above them, that the ground was slippery when she rose with a groan. Her body, especially her legs felt so stiff, that she wondered if her joints had begun to rust.

She leaned against a tree and shook her legs alternately, trying to get the circulation going again. Marlowe was still asleep a few meters away, nestled between two large roots of the tree, snoring softly. Cyra smirked. From where she stood it almost looked like he was hugging the tree in his sleep. She decided not to wake him just yet and, instead, walked towards the elevation, where Haggard and Sweetwater were standing guard. The feeling in her legs slightly improved with every step and by the time she reached the privates, she felt a little better overall. A little.

"Morning Lieutenant." The tech said in a low voice when he saw her approach.

"Hah, fine morning this is." Haggard grumbled snidely. "Hey LT."

"Anything out of the ordinary happened?" The young asari asked, after she'd returned the greetings.

"A whole squadron of these oversized fireflys, you warned us about, came pretty close. Other than that nothing, ma'am" The demo-expert replied with a grin. "Freaked Sweets out pretty good."

"Oh bullshit!" The tech protested, a little too loudly for Cyra's taste, but she let it go this time. "Pay no attention to this yank, Lieutenant. I just said we should keep our distance and not disturb them, is all."

Cyra almost asked, what the hell a yank was, but then simply shrugged it off as 'probably unimportant right now'. She did make a mental note to ask about it later however.

"Hah, yeah of course." Haggard snorted, his grin broadening. "Whatever you say, Sweets."

"Anyway." The asari maiden interjected before Sweetwater could give an answer to that. "We'll move out soon, so be ready. How's your food situation?"

"Got one bar left." The demo-expert growled, unable to keep himself from grimacing in disgust. "But to call this stuff 'food' is kinda pushing it if you ask me."

"Same here." Sweetwater said. "And yeah calling those rations food is kinda bold. It's more a 'means to keep you going' or something like that. I mean in my opinion..."

"I get it, thank you private." Cyra cut him off. "Once we get off this rock, feel free to complain about it to alliance high command. For now I'm afraid it's all we got." She paused for a moment. "Is there anything else?"

"No ma'am." They both replied at the same time.

"Okay then, as I said get ready to move." She said, turning around.

"In your opinion what?" She heard Haggard ask in a low voice as she walked away.

"Hm?"

"Before the Lieutenant interrupted you, you said: 'In my opinion...'"

"Oh that. Well you see..."

Cyra couldn't hear the rest of the conversation. Despite the mess they found themselves in, the young asari chuckled with a slight shake of her head. Both, Haggard and Sweetwater weren't really special forces types. Their competence in their fields was clear and the last couple of days had showed they could more than hold their own in a firefight. But they were a very different kind than the few men and women that made it through N7 training with her. Those had been very quiet and very focused during their training missions. The privates were neither very quiet, nor seemed they very focused. At least not outwardly. Cyra knew enough to know, that there was obviously more to those two than met the eye. If they were just the shallow loud-mouths they seemed to be they would never have made it this far. The young asari smiled. If nothing else the two privates did a good job, lightening the mood. She could use it.

As Cyra walked over to Murphy she saw that his omni-tool was still activated. Most likely he was still studying the flight recorder data. McCoy was lying on her side next to the flight lieutenant, curled up in her sleep as much as her armor would allow.

"Hey Murph." She whispered as she knelt down next to the pilot. "How's the leg?"

He flinched as if he'd only just now noticed her approach, taking his eyes away from the holo-screen he blinked, trying to make something in what little light the omni-tool provided.

"Hurts." He said with a shrug. "It's not too bad really." He hesitated for a heartbeat. "At least not considering I may lose it." He finished with a grimace.

Cyra's eyes widened considerably as she opened the visor to look the pilot in the eyes, forgetting it was still dark for a moment. "McCoy told you that?"

The pilot frowned. "Come on Shepard I am not a fool, okay?" He growled. "No she didn't tell me anything but she really didn't have to. I mean she takes off right after you checked on me and then comes back desperately trying to pretend, everything is all right? I can read people pretty well, Shepard, and I can put two and two together, thank you very much."

The was a brief, awkward silence as Cyra didn't know what to say.

"I don't want to be a Starship helmsman." Murphy finally whispered so softly she could barely hear him.

"What do you mean?" She was almost afraid to ask.

He sighed heavily. "There's a paragraph somewhere in the alliance regs, saying you're not allowed to pilot fighters or gunships with an artificial limb. Don't ask me why. I have no idea."

"I see." The young asari said lamely, cursing herself that she couldn't think of anything more appropriate to say.

"Really?" He asked, closing his eyes for a second. "You know, I wanted to become a fighter pilot since I was a little boy but I couldn't make the cut, wasn't good enough I guess. So I worked my ass off to make it as a gunship jockey instead and I thought 'heck this is almost as good'. With an artificial leg, however, the only thing I'll be able to do is to fly a clumsy starship or a shuttle. If I am lucky that is." His voice dropped to a whisper again as he seemed to shudder at the prospect. Cyra saw his jaw tighten before he hastily turned his head away, fighting to maintain his composure.

She cleared her throat, rising with renewed determination. "Don't you worry about your leg, Murph." She said walking around the stretcher. "We'll get you to a hospital in time."

She grabbed the medic's shoulder, shaking the human woman vigorously "McCoy wake up! It's time to move."

As McCoy slowly rose, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely, Cyra was already on her way to wake Marlowe, covering the distance with a purposeful stride. She had meant to ask the pilot if he'd found anything in the flight recorder data, but this could wait. It was time to pick up the pace.

* * *

At the same time Bravo team got ready to get moving again a man walked through a dimly lit road in a run down district of Horizon's capital. This part of the city was more or less a leftover from the early days of colonization with a lot of prefabs mixed in between regular building. Everyone who could afford it had left for more modern districts long ago. There were no security cameras, no police patrols here, leaving small time criminal gangs in control.

Some of the local hoodlums were still hanging around , even at this late hour, the man noticed, surveying his surroundings with low-light goggles. None of them dared to approach the lone figure however for he moved with the grace and confidence of a trained professional and if one looked closely enough one could see the shimmer of a light armor suit underneath the long, dark mantle he was wearing. He let his gaze wander around the neighborhood one last time, before he entered a small building at the end of the road, taking off the goggles once inside to let a highly sophisticated retinal scanner do its work. He was pleased to see the others were already there, as he finally stepped inside after the security check.

He went by the name of Henry Jones. It was not his real name, of course. During the last two decades he'd changed identities dozens of times and once this assignment was over Henry Jones would cease to exist, passing into oblivion like all the other aliases before.

As his own identity was a mystery to the other two men waiting in the room, so were theirs' a mystery to him. The taller one of them was called Vitaly Petrow and pretty much the only thing Jones knew of the man was that he was a ex-N7 trooper, recruited for Alliance Intelligence after being dishonorably discharged from the alliance forces. He knew even less of the other one, known as Bert Manowski. It was unimportant who they were anyway. All he needed to know was that they, like himself were members of AI black ops division and they would carry out their assigned task by any means necessary.

"Evening Gentlemen." He said, not bothering to take off his mantle as he sat down at the small table in the middle of the room. He took two data pads out of one of the pouches of the mantle and gave one each to the other men, as they returned his greetings with a nod.

"As you know we got new orders." He said as Petrow and Manowki activated the pads. "Those are members of an alliance special forces team that crashed somewhere in the northern forest about twenty hours ago."

He gave them a moment to look at the dossiers of the people in question. They didn't ask, what an alliance spec ops team was doing on Horizon. One of the most important lessons, when working as a secret agent was not to ask too many questions.

Manowski let out an surprised whistle. "Shepard? Is that..."

"The daughter of the big man himself." Jones confirmed.

"And we're supposed to smuggle them off world?" Petrow asked, studying the profiles of the soldiers more closely.

"On the contrary, we're to prevent them from leaving Horizon ever again."

"What?" The men's heads came up instantly.

"You heard me correctly." Jones said with a nod. "It would seem one of the troopers, Private Sweetwater I believe, illegally downloaded highly classified information that could be devastating to the alliance if they got out and..."

"And it was decided to have the whole team eliminated because of that one guy?" Manowski finished the sentence. "Lovely."

"We don't know, what the Private intends to do with the data. Whether he wants to sell it to the highest bidder or something like that. We don't know if the others are in on it either." He gave each of the men a brief look. "You know as well as I do, the people in charge tend to live according to the maxim: better safe than sorry." Jones eyed the other man with a frown. "You have a problem with that?"

Manowski smiled thinly. "Of course not."

There was a brief silence as all three of them mulled over the possible consequences of their new task.

"Anyway, we can't just eliminate them." Jones finally continued. "We need to know if anyone else on their ship knows anything about the data, if it already got distributed and if so to whom. We need to capture and interrogate them."

"It's getting better all the time." Petrow growled. "The three of us are supposed to capture a special forces team alive?" He held up his data pad. "How the hell are we going to find them anyway?"

"They will want to leave the planet and the only way to do that is Discovery Space-port, so we know where they are headed." Jones replied calmly. "Besides we won't have to capture them by ourselves. We got the funds to hire some local assistance. I believe the criminal gangs in this part of town will gladly do the leg work for us if the pay is good, don't you think?"

"Hmm yeah, okay." Petrow said thoughtfully. "But I still don't like it." He pointed at his pad. "If the Lieutenant's old man finds out about this, we're dead men walking."

"No one asked you to like anything, Petrow." The senior agent said coolly. "And he will never know, if we do the job right. Now listen up. This is what we'll do..."

* * *

_'Me and my big mouth!'_ Cyra thought, her breathing heavy, as she knelt down behind a bush, looking at the research outpost. _'Don't worry about your leg Murph, we'll get you to a hospital in time. Halle-fucking-lujah!'_ Trying to reach the base before dawn, Haggard, Sweetwater and herself had ran the last couple of klicks, leaving the rest of the team behind to pick them up later. Her legs felt as if they were about to fall off and the two men looked just as exhausted. _'Goddess, please let there be a vehicle here'_ The young asari thought as the tech let his recon drone fly around the prefab buildings.

"Looks like the egg-heads are still asleep." He reported after a few minutes. "No movement at all. No Vehicle out in the open but possibly in one of the buildings. No security systems to speak of." He finished, giving the drone the return command.

"Right. Get us there, Private. Let's move." She ordered, forcing herself to stand up. The men also rose, groans and mumbled obscenities included. With about the same enthusiasm as a child on the way to school they slowly moved towards the base, Sweetwater up front, herself in the middle and Haggard covering the rear. The sky was fairly bright now, she noticed as she switched of her helmet's night vision systems. She figured it was, at most, another half an hour until sunrise. There was no fence, or anything, around the outpost, she noticed as they got closer. Obviously the people here didn't worry about unwanted guests.

Sweetwater started to work on the door immediately after they'd reached the target building. The military grade omni-tool required only a few seconds to burn through the feeble security systems. Haggard let out a surprised whistle as the large door opened, revealing a six-wheeled vehicle.

"Hey, that looks almost like an old Mako." He exclaimed and started to walk around the armored car.

"I think it is a Mako, without the gun turret that is." The tech agreed. "Didn't expect to find one of those here." The privates immediately began to discuss their discovery in excitement.

Cyra was far less enthusiastic than the men, looking at the vehicle. It certainly did look like one of those legendary APCs and while she felt relived that they'd really found a means of transportation, she had no idea how to drive one of these. Then there was the problem of getting it running.

"Hey." She interrupted the raving men. "Remember where we are." She growled.

She looked at the beaten up vehicle a little more closely. "Any one of you has any idea, how to drive this thing?"

"I do!" Haggard replied at once, a little too eagerly for her taste.

"You do? You've driven a Mako before?"

"Well not directly no." The demo-expert admitted reluctantly. "But I've driven wheeled cars quite a lot before I enlisted."

"I see." She gave it some thought. "All right Hags get in there and see if you can get it running. And hurry, I'd like to be gone before someone of the base personnel stumbles in here."

"Right away." Haggard grinned broadly.

It took him a moment to figure out, how to open the main hatch. Cyra heard him rummaging around inside as she impatiently stepped from one foot to the other. There were a few muffled curses and then the Private climbed out again.

"Sweets, get in there." He said in disgust. "The on-board computer is password protected." He jumped down the side of the Mako and helped his team-mate to get up.

"What's taking so long?" Haggard demanded, when the problem wasn't solved a few minutes later.

Sweetwater stuck his head out of the hatch. "It's an old system damn it! I'm not used to dealing with antiquities like this okay? A little more patience please. I'm doing the best I can."

"How about doin' your best a little faster?" Haggard said scornfully. "We ain't got all day."

"Whatever!" The tech growled and got back to work.

Several minutes passed. "Come on Sweets." The demo-expert moaned. "The whole base is gona..."

"Quiet!" Cyra snarled although she could barely keep her own impatience in check. "Let him work!"

The young asari walked to the front door and risked a glance outside. There was still no one around in the part of the base she could see into. She was just turning around when a small door on the other side of the building opened with a hiss and a young human male entered, whistling a popular tune. He froze when he saw the armored soldiers.

"Who the hell..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Despite his fatigue, Haggard reacted at once. He covered the distance between the two of them with a short sprint and slammed the butt of his gun against the man's jaw. The young human fell against the wall in his back and hit the ground, unconscious. The demo-expert switched on his shotgun's power systems, aiming a the man's head.

"Haggard!" Cyra's voice cracked like a whip. "Put the gun down!" She yelled, forgetting for a moment that somebody might hear her as she ran up to the Private.

"We can't just leave him here." Haggard protested as the shoved his gun down. "If he tells his friends about us, we're in deep shit."

"And what the hell do you think his friends are going to do if they discover a headless corpse and the Mako missing?" Cyra demanded testily. "Wouldn't take a genius to figure out what happened in here, would it?"

Haggard reluctantly switched off his shotgun. He had to admit the asari had a point. "Maybe not." He growled. "Still, we can't leave him here."

"No we can't." Cyra said, racking her brain for a possible solution. The safest thing would be to take the young human into the forest and break his neck, but she didn't want to kill the man simply because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all he had nothing to do with this whole, vile business, the team found itself in.

"We'll take him with us." She decided after a minute of thinking. "The doc can give him a sedative to keep him asleep until we're gone. With a little luck, people will think he took the car for a joyride or something like that."

She could see from the look on Haggard's face that he wasn't fully satisfied with the plan, but he said nothing. Instead he shrugged and picked up the limp body. Cyra watched him drag the man over to the Mako when she suddenly realized, the vehicle was humming softly. Sweetwater emerged from the hatch a moment later, triumphant smile and all.

"Up and running, Ladies and Gentlemen!" He said with a exaggerated gesture.

"'Bout time!" Haggard rumbled, not the least bit impressed. "Now help me, getting this guy inside, will ya?"

"Who the hell is that?" The tech raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He'd been so focused to power up the Mako, that he'd been completely oblivious to what had happened outside.

"Later, Private." The asari maiden said, helping Haggard to lift up the human. "Let's get going."

They were able to get the unconscious inside the vehicle fairly easily, thanks to Horizon's below standard gravity. Haggard slipped into the driver's seat, grinning broadly. After giving Sweetwater the order to watch their 'prisoner', Cyra took a seat in the small, transparent cupola that replaced the gun turret.

"Okay, let's move." She said, uploading the meeting point coordinates to the board computer. "Whenever you're ready, Private."

"Right. Hold on." Nothing happened.

"Is something wrong?" She inquired as Haggard mumbled something she couldn't quite hear.

"Just a second, LT..."

Cyra almost fell out of her seat when the Mako suddenly leaped forward then stopped abruptly. She could barely keep herself from shouting a curse. Sweetwater showed less restraint.

"Jesus Christ Hags!" The tech yelled. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"I need to get used to the controls." Haggard answered. "Don't worry, I got this."

"Just get us moving, Private. " Cyra ordered, looking at demo-expert's back suspiciously. His reply had sounded somewhat too cheerful. "And I would appreciate it, if the rest of the trip was a little less jerky."

"Sure thing, ma'am." Haggard chuckled as he guided the Mako out of the hangar, slowly increasing speed once outside. From her seat Cyra could see several people running after them, waving wildly.

They gave up soon though. Instead the radio receiver came alive as Haggard slowed down slightly upon entering the forest.

"Bond, what the hell are you doing?" A female voice demanded angrily. "We don't have time for one of your silly stunts! If you don't want to go job-hunting you get your ass back here right now! Do you hear me?"

Haggard resisted the urge to answer with some effort, switching off the radio reluctantly as he focused on guiding the Mako around the trees.


	11. Chapter 11

Howdy folks.

Obviously my last update for this year. I wish you all a merry Christmas (If it's celebrated in your part of the world) and a happy new year.

See ya 2012 ;)

* * *

"Easy, easy!" McCoy yelled, gesturing wildly as Marlowe and Haggard lifted the injured pilot out of the Mako's hatch. The medic had run out of pain killers and medi-gel a few hours ago and winced every time Murphy groaned in pain. The ten hour ride to the planetary capital had been quite bumpy at times and the young woman shuddered, thinking about how the last few hours must have been for the wounded man. She had offered to sedate him but he'd refused, claiming he had something important to tell to the Lieutenant first. McCoy knelt down next to the pilot as they finally lay him down on the improvised stretcher, wiping the sweat off his face and forehead.

"She...Shepard?" He managed to stammer between groans. "Where is she? Need...Need to tell her something."

"I'll get her, just a second." The medic rose and ran over to the edge of the forest, where Cyra and Sweetwater were looking at a small settlement on the outskirts of Discovery.

"Lieutenant."

The young asari turned around. "Yes Corporal, what is it? How's Murphy?"

"He's in pain." McCoy said. "That leg has to hurt like blazes. I want to sedate him but he doesn't let me. He says he needs to tell you something first."

Cyra frowned slightly. "Okay I'll come right over." She said then turned Sweetwater. "Continue your scans private, I'll be right back." She ordered, wondering what the pilot needed to tell her as she walked with McCoy.

"Hey Murph." She said. "How are you doing?"

"Been better." He moaned through clenched teeth. He started to speak several times but barely managed to utter a few words before groaning in pain. "Listen, there is something I need to tell you. The flight recorder data sh..." He broke off mid-sentence again as a new wave of pain from his leg made his eyes water.

"To hell with this." Cyra said forcefully. "McCoy give him the sedative."

"No!" Murphy protested. "Not yet."

"Listen Murph. If you found something in the data I am sure it can wait until we get your leg fixed."

"Oh, I found something all right." He rasped. "The gunship was sabotaged."

The look of concern on Cyra's face was quickly replaced by one of incredulity. "What?"

"Sabotaged." Murphy repeated. "It was an internal explosion that severed the optical cables between the engines and the computer but...but it sure as hell wasn't a malfunction. There is nothing in this part of the ship that can explode like that. Somebody must have planted an explosive charge there." Despite his pain, it was apparent that the pilot was more than a little pissed about this.

"Are you sure about...Yes of course you are." Cyra corrected herself before Murphy could protest, shaking her head in disbelief. The pilot didn't seem to be the kind of guy, who made such a claim lightly. What the hell had she gotten herself into? "Okay thanks for the info, Murph." She said, forcing her mind back to the immediate problems. "McCoy, give him the sedative." She held up her hand as Murphy took a deep breath. "No discussion. If there's something else it'll have to wait. I'm not going to sit here, trying to pry information out of you while you're in that much pain. I'm not a torturer." She said in a tone that made it very clear that it was pointless to argue.

She rose and walked back to Sweetwater, absently waving the other men over as she pondered over possible scenarios and came up with none that made sense. "All right guys, listen up." She began as they gathered up around her. "This whole thing is getting weirder and weirder. Murph just told me we crashed because the gunship was sabotaged." She said, looking in her men's eyes. They looked every bit a baffled as she felt. "Anyone has any idea who could have done this or why?" She asked although she didn't really expect an answer. Why would they know anything when she, herself, had absolutely no idea what was going on? As she'd thought, Haggard and Marlowe just shrugged, but for a brief moment she had the odd impression that Sweetwater seemed to know something.

"Sweetwater? Anything you want to say?"

He hesitated for a split-second before he shook his head. "No, ma'am"

Cyra frowned as she looked at the tech, wondering, whether she should keep on asking or not. She decided against it at this time but she did plan to have a quiet word with him later. "Well, keep thinking about it. I don't know about you, but I would feel better if we had at least an idea what we'd gotten into. In the mean time we still need to get off this rock, preferably in one piece."

"You got a plan LT?" Marlowe inquired. "We can't just waltz into the Space-port and steal a shuttle, can we?"

"Of course not." The asari maiden sighed. "We'll need some time to figure out how to get past their security. We need a place to stay for a few days somewhere close by. A cheap hotel or something like that." She thought about it for a minute. "Does anybody have any idea, whether the mission data contains anything that could help us there?"

Cyra resisted the urge to groan and rub her eyes, as only shrugs and head shakes answered her. "Marlowe, see if you can find anything. Sweetwater you continue to scan the settlement. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves so we'll need some civilian clothing. Try to find us a house where there's nobody at home. Haggard you help him." She looked at them for a few moments to see if anyone had anything else to say. When none did she turned around and walked back to McCoy, who was rummaging through her pack.

"Are you looking for something?" She asked Corporal.

"No, I am just checking what I have left." McCoy replied, looking up. Cyra eyed the human woman for a few seconds. The medic had taken off her helmet and ran her hand through her black hair. Her hand trembled slightly, Cyra noticed. For the first time McCoy looked just as weary as the rest of them. Up to this point it had seemed as if their ordeal had no effect on the young asian.

"Are you all right?" The asari asked, putting a hand on the smaller woman's shoulder.

"I am fine." McCoy replied with a shrug. "More or less anyway. I am just tired, keep forgetting small things and my head feels like somebody stuffed it full of wool." She put the small drug container, she'd been holding, back in the pack and tried to smile put it didn't look very convincing. "I'll be all right. I wouldn't say no to a few hours of sleep though."

Cyra smirked. "Every one feels the same way you do, Corporal. You've been doing well." The young asari said. In her own haziness she couldn't think of anything else to say but McCoy's smile nevertheless brightened a little, looking somewhat better now.

The medic stifled a yawn and closed her eyes. When she reopened them she seemed confused for a second. "Ahh damn it! I wanted to tell you something, but what...?" McCoy said with an ironic smirk. "See? That's what I was talking about a minute ago."

Cyra chuckled softly. She'd experienced similar moments. The young asari found it oddly comforting to know that she wasn't the only one having those fatigue related problems. "Something about Murph?"

"Ah yes of course." McCoy exclaimed smacking her forehead with the palm of her right hand. "His condition is getting worse. He needs surgery. The sooner the better."

"I know, I know." The asari lieutenant grimaced. "We'll get him to a hospital as soon as we can, but we need some clothes and a vehicle first."

"Where are we going to get clothes from?" The medic frowned.

Cyra said nothing, nodding towards the settlement instead.

"You mean we're going to break in one of the houses?" She asked incredulously, her eyebrows rising. "We can't just..."

"I don't like the idea of stealing any more than you do, McCoy." The asari maiden said flatly. "But we have no choice. If we walk into a store in full combat armor, chances are they'll call the police as soon as we're gone."

"And what if someone sees us..." The medic's voice trailed off.

"I never said it was a perfect plan." Cyra admitted honestly. "But what can we do?"

McCoy thought about it for a while, trying to find a better solution and came up empty.

"Oh before I forget." Cyra interrupted the human woman's thoughts. "How much longer until our involuntary guest wakes up?" The young human male, that had walked in when they were 'borrowing' the Mako, was another problem. There wasn't much he could tell anybody about them. Luckily he hadn't seen any of their faces. Nevertheless, if he told people that there was an armed party around, it could potentially put them as risk.

"Three, maybe four hours."

"Okay, good. That should give us enough time to get clear."

McCoy cast a venomous glare at Haggard. "He'll have a hard time, telling anybody anything with that broken jaw of his." There had been a short, but heated debate between the medic and the demolition-expert, concerning the amount of force needed to knock somebody out. For a moment it had looked as if the small woman was going to slap the much taller man when he'd said: 'The guy ought to be glad he's still alive', and Cyra had had to intervene.

The asari maiden sighed again, wondering what her father would do if he was in her shoes now.

* * *

The young, female Lieutenant looked up in fright as Marcus Shepard burst into the ante-room of Admiral Moreau's office on the top level of Arcturus Station. Put off her stroke by the sudden disturbance, it took her a moment to recognize mankind's greatest hero. Supposedly he visited quite regularly but she'd only worked as the Admiral's aide a few weeks and never met the retired Spectre.

"Is he here?" Shepard barked, not bothering to say hello first.

"Co-Commander Shepard?" The Lieutenant finally managed to stammer. "Admiral Moreau, you mean?"

"No, Santa-clause!" The ex-marine scoffed, then took a deep breath. "Yes Admiral Moreau." He said somewhat more calmly. The last twenty hours, especially the trip from the Citadel to Arcturus had sorely tried his patience but it was unfair to take it out on this young woman.

"Y-Yes he's in." She said, still a little bit shaken. "But he made it very clear that he doesn't wish to be disturbed in the next few hours."

Shepard smiled thinly. "I think he'll make an exception for me. Just ask him."

The Lieutenant bit her lower lip nervously. "I can't." She said, casting a glance at the door leading to her boss' office. "The Admiral is in a video-conference and switched off his communicator."

The retired spectre's eyes narrowed. He didn't intend to sit on his ass, waiting for Joker to come out of his office, while his oldest daughter's life was on the line. "I don't have time for this. Excuse me." He growled as he walked around the desk. Pushing the young woman out of the way to get to the haptic interface, he unlocked the door himself. Preventing any attempt of reactivating the door lock with a harsh glare he turned around, walked through the, now open, door...and stopped in his tracks. He took a moment to look at the scene before him. Admiral Jeff Moreau was fast asleep, half sitting, half lying in his comfortable chair, an old, worn out SR2 cap pulled down over his eyes.

"Good ol' Joker." Shepard whispered, fighting back a snicker as he gave the Lieutenant a pointed look. "A video-conference, huh?" He said with a faint smirk before he touched the holographic controls. The Admiral's aide blushed and shrugged feebly. The young human relaxed a little as the door closed, exhaling sharply.

On the other side of the door, Marcus Shepard was trying to wake his former helmsman, his first attempt being a simple 'Wake up, Jeff.' Next he gently shook the snoring man. Then a little less gently. "Admiral, Wake up." He said, speaking a little louder this time, but the high ranking alliance officer was still sleeping soundly, mumbling something unintelligible. Shepard sighed and made a face.

"Joker!"

The Admiral's eyes popped open at once. "Yes Sir!" He replied as he sat up in alarm. He blinked a few times and looked around in bewilderment, only realizing where he was when Shepard caught his eye.

"Come on Shep!" He groaned in protest as he sat back in his chair, looking at his former CO reproachfully. "Do you really have to wake me when I am dreaming of the old days?"

Jeff 'Joker' Moreau hadn't changed much since the days he was referring to. His beard had grown white, the furrows in his face had deepened a little and he was, although he would fiercely deny this, a wee bit slower nowadays. Other than that he was the same cocky, high spirited and sometimes overconfident chap that had gotten the Normandy and its crew out of many a tight spot.

"Felling a little nostalgic are we?" Shepard remarked in amusement. "Missing the old days?"

Joker yawned widely, stretching for a moment. "Of course I do." He said. Pressing the palm of his right hand on a built in control unit, he guided the floating chair to a coffee machine behind him. "Don't you?" He asked raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"Hm well, let me see." Shepard replied, pretending give it some thought. "Am I missing the days

when I had trouble sleeping because the Reapers were standing on our doorstep? When the threat of extinction hung over all our heads like a sword of Damocles? Na not really."

"Pffft! Details." Joker snorted with a dismissive wave of his left hand. "Back then I flew a state-of-the-art starship. Now I'm a desk jockey and all I am flying is this silly chair here." He said with a grin. "Care for a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

"Black, right?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway." Joker said, getting serious as he pressed several buttons on the machine. "You didn't come here to talk about the old days, did you? You want to know what happened to Cyra."

Shepard's slight smile vanished instantly and was replaced by a scowl as he remembered the reason for visiting his old friend. "Damned right!" He snapped. "Where the hell did you send her that she's turning up MIA on her first goddamned assignment?"

"Hey, slow down okay?" Joker said with a sigh as he floated back to his desk with two steaming cups of coffee. "Why don't you take a seat before you rip my head off?"

Shepard bit back an angry retort and sat down in the closest chair. "Well?" He demanded testily.

"Well first – here's your coffee by the way – I didn't send her anywhere." The admiral replied, pushing the coffee cup towards his former Captain. "Her unit being sent on this op was not of my doing." He clarified with a slight shake of his head.

"Whatever!" Shepard said, ignoring the coffee completely. "Look, Joker. Right now I don't give a shit about, who's responsible or anything. We'll get to that later. I just want to know what the hell happened."

"Well, I don't really know to be honest." Joker said, holding up his hand as the former Spectre inhaled sharply. "Just listen for a moment before you leap at my throat okay?" He continued quickly.

Shepard sat back in his chair, folded his arms and nodded curtly.

"I can't really tell you anything about the situation Cyra is in I am afraid." Joker began again. "All I can tell you for certain is that I received a casualty report, saying that her gunship crashed but she has probably survived."

"Probably?" Shepard roared. "What do you mean by 'probably'? Why the hell wasn't a rescue mission launched?"

"Look, I don't know damn it." Joker said , shrugging helplessly. "I have been trying to find out details about the operation ever since I got that report yesterday."

"And?"

"And this op is a mystery. I mean, I've really seen a lot in the past fifty years but I've never seen such a tight security. Nobody seems to know anything about it. Hell, even the marines, that guarded the bay where the Wake Island was docked, got transferred off the station."

Shepard frowned, absently picking up the coffee cup. Something didn't quite add up. "Wait a moment, Joker." He said. "In her last mail Cyra said she was going to serve on a stealth frigate and those fall into your area of responsibility, don't they?"

"Normally yes, but for some reason Alliance Intelligence was put in charge of the ship."

Shepard's eyebrows shot up. "What the...Since when does AI have anything to do with Navy ship operations?"

"Beats me." Joker said. "When I asked the supreme commander about it all I got for an answer was 'mind your own fucking business, Moreau'."

Marcus Shepard sat back in his chair and took a sip from his cup, brooding over what he'd just heard. Alliance Intelligence had their own vessels, small unarmed ships bristling with surveillance equipment for the most part, and every once in a while Navy vessels would support their operations. But AI being put in charge of a front-line warship directly was unheard of. He didn't like it one bit.

"If that's so, how come you got a casualty report?"

"Well, that is a mystery in itself. Maybe it was just a mistake of the Wake Island's comm officer. I don't know."

The ex-Spectre was getting sick and tired of his old friend telling him he didn't know about this or that. "Well, what do you know?" He demanded heatedly.

Joker made a face. "Come on Shep! Gimme a break, will ya? I am not a magician, you know." He replied. "I'd only just gotten back from an exercise when I received the report. I haven't slept properly for two days." He said somehow feeling the need to justify the nap he'd been taking. "I am not a machine either." He gave his former CO a pointed look. "And neither are you!" He paused for a moment. "And by that I mean you look like shit." He finally finished.

Shepard fought back an angry remark and closed his eyes for a minute. Joker had a point of course. He hadn't had any sleep for the last thirty-six hours and he was beginning to feel it. _'You're getting old'_ He thought with a grimace. In the 'old days' he'd been able to cope with lack of sleep much better, admittedly aided by stims sometimes. That he had been able to control his emotions better back then had probably nothing to do with his age though. _'You didn't have a lot to lose, now you have a wife and four wonderful daughters.'_

"Anyway." Joker interrupted his thoughts. "Believe it or not, there are a few things I DO know." He said, activating his desk's holo-projector. It took a moment to start up then it displayed a three dimensional model of a starship.

Shepard's eyes narrowed a little as he leaned forward to get a closer look at the slowly turning 3D image. "What the heck is that?" He asked in puzzlement. Although he'd retired half a century ago, he would still keep up to date on new ship and weapons developments. This particular ship, however, looked like nothing he'd ever seen.

"That's the Wake Island." The other man replied with a nod. "Haven't seen anything like this have you?" Joker continued pressing a few buttons to display a regular frigate for comparison.

Shepard let out an impressed whistle for the Wake Island was much larger than the other ship. "I'll be damned." He mumbled. "Are you telling me this thing is stealth capable?"

"Looks like it. I got these schematics only a few hours ago and didn't have time to examine them properly yet." He frowned as he gestured at the holo-image. "You have no idea how many favors I had to call in just to get these blueprints." Joker briefly took off his cap and scratched the back of his neck before putting it back on.

Shepard took a moment take a closer look a the spinning image. "So, what are we looking at anyway?" He finally asked pointing at the virtual ship. "Is that thing some kind of a stealth carrier? Looks like a pretty large flight deck there."

Joker shook his head in denial. "Na, it's too small to be a full blown carrier. Sure, you could jam a couple of fighters in there but the way I see it, it's a planetary assault ship. Designed to approach by stealth and to put ground troops behind the enemy lines undetected."

The retired spectre frowned. "You can do that with regular stealth frigates as well." He said, waving dismissively.

"True." His old friend replied. "But normal frigates are only able to carry small commando teams. The Wake Island can put a full fledged fighting force, tanks and gunships included, on the ground before anyone knows its there. Judging by its size, it could probably overpower the defenses of many planets on its own."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully. "I see you point. I take it the rest of the galaxy hasn't been informed about these special capabilities, right?"

"Nobody was." Joker confirmed. "Even I thought it was just another frigate until I got these blueprints. It was developed and built in total secrecy, it seems and here's where it gets interesting."

The former helmsman touched a few holo-buttons, replacing the ship-model with the image of a man. "Know this guy?" He asked.

"That's the director of Alliance Intelligence isn't he?" Shepard said with a shrug. "What was his name again...?"

"Fisher."

"Right, what is his part in all this? And..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What has all this to do with Cyra anyway?"

"I spoke to a couple of people in pretty high places about the director – by the way am I the only one who thinks the abbreviation AI for Alliance Intelligence is a little misleading? I mean AI? Maybe if an AI was behind AI maybe we'd get our intel a little faster." He furrowed his brows thoughtfully. "On the other hand the Reapers were Ais, so this kinda fits. After..."

"Joker!" Shepard barked impatiently. As amusing as Joker's ramblings usually were he didn't have time for it today.

"Oh, err...Where was I?" The admiral scratched his head. "Right, the director, of course – come on Joker, focus! Anyway as I was saying, I tried to find out something about the operation and the Wake Island in general."

"Joker, can we please just cut to the chase?" Shepard groaned rubbing his eyes in exasperation. "Just tell me what you know and let's save the what, how and when for later okay?"

The former pilot stared at him for a heartbeat before shrugging. "All right, fine." He puffed. "From what little I've managed to find out so far it looks like the Wake Island was designed specifically for this operation. It seems like Fisher has a personal interest in all this. I've been told he flew out to the ship to be on the scene personally and several people told me he's holding a grudge against someone in the terminus systems."

"Wait a minute Joker. Are you telling me this whole thing is some kind of a personal vendetta? And my girl got caught in the middle of it?"

"That's what it looks like to me, yes. But as I said I don't have a lot information so far so I could be completely wrong." He paused for a second. "However I have some people looking into Fisher's past in case I am right. If we can find out what his story is we may be able to tell what this whole business is about."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't necessarily mean we'll know where Cyra went missing."

"It would be a start."

Shepard's eyes narrowed somewhat. "Yeah maybe. Anyway if my daughter comes to harm because of some silly little intrigue, that Fisher guy is going to regret it." He said, emptied his cup in one gulp and rose. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Shep, where are you going?"

"I don't intend to sit around, waiting for your people to come up with something." Shepard replied as he was walking to the door. "I guess it's about time I start treading on some people's toes. And if that doesn't work, I got other means." The way he said it sent a chill down Joker's spine.

* * *

Lance Corporal Preston Marlowe felt very awkward, going through a stranger's wardrobe and for a second he wondered, what his parents would say if they saw him now. His mom would probably just look at him in disappointment while his father would most likely yell: 'I told you to join C-Sec but you didn't wanna listen! Now look at you'. Or something along that line anyway. He shrugged it off. As the lieutenant had said several times, they didn't have much of a choice.

So far it seemed their break in had not been observed by anybody, at least he couldn't hear any police sirens. Considering they'd 'borrowed' a delivery truck earlier that was a especially good news. Still, Haggard, Sweetwater and McCoy were on guard, looking out the windows while Shepard and himself changed. He could hear rattling behind him, as the asari maiden peeled off her armor.

"Come on, Marlowe. Move it!" Cyra said, as he looked from one set of clothes to the next. "Just pick something and put it on. Doesn't matter if you like it or not."

He turned around and froze with his 'Yes ma'am' unuttered on his lips. Somehow the asari had managed to get the top half of her armor off already and he saw that she wore nothing but a bra underneath as he stared at her with a wide open mouth, letting his gaze wander over her body. The thought _'So asari do wear bras' _flashed through his mind. Fortunately she didn't notice him gaping, as she proceeded to take off her leg armor, obviously not expecting an answer. Marlowe whirled around, desperately trying to suppress his body's reaction to the sight of the half naked asari. He grabbed a random set of clothes and hastily left the room.

As Cyra looked up in bewilderment, wondering, why the Corporal had left in a hurry, Marlowe let himself fall into a chair and buried his face in his hands, trying to get the picture, he'd just seen, out of his head. Unsuccessfully. During the last week he'd caught himself thinking about his new Lieutenant more than just once and it'd only gotten worse after they'd shared a watch last night.

He couldn't help but wonder what her skin felt like, how it would be like to run his hands over those wavy folds on the back of her neck – and other parts of her body, how her kiss would taste. _'For Christ's sake, Preston!' _He interrupted his fantasizing, scratching the back of his head in exasperation. _'Get a grip, will ya? She's your CO, the daughter of the galaxy's greatest hero and you're just a dumb-ass grunt! And this is neither the time nor the place. So forget it!' _He stood up and started to peel away his own armor, trying to distract himself but it worked only partially.

He was just about finished, when her heard her come out of the other room. He was careful not to turn around as she walked by him. He relaxed a little after she'd walked through the door, taking a deep breath. He was trying so hard to think of something else, that he didn't notice Haggard until he started to speak.

"Nice ass, Pres." The demo-expert laughed as Marlowe was just putting on the pants. The sniper swore under his breath, barely able to keep himself from flinching.

"Very funny Hags." He growled, turning around to glare at the other man. "Now why don't you get YOUR ass in civi clothes instead of pestering me? We don't have all day."

„Pestering? Bah!" Haggard said in mock indignation. "I was just trying to be nice but okay."

"Just get going."

"Fine, fine if you can't handle a compliment..." The Private huffed as he walked away throwing up his hands.

"You know." He said as he came back, carrying a set of clothes. "I am a little disappointed."

Marlowe knew he was going to regret it, but he replied anyway:"Is that so?"

"Yeah I was kinda hoping, you would be the first to finish getting dressed, you know, I may have been able to get a glimpse what the LT is wearing underneath her armor." He grinned. "Did you..."

"Hags!"

"What?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

* * *

It was raining heavily as the team came out of the house, they'd broken in. The hedges around the property hid them at least partially as they boarded the stolen truck. It wasn't a full blown skytruck, it could only float, at most, half a meter above the ground. But it was inconspicuous and large enough for themselves and their gear. Cyra almost expected a police blockade waiting for them behind the next corner but the road was clear.

Trying to keep away from surveillance cameras as much as possible they first drove to a supermarket to purchase some additional clothing, some food as well as a few communicators. Since Asari were a rare sight on Horizon, Cyra decided to stay in the truck and let Haggard and Marlowe do the shopping in an effort to keep a low profile.

Everything seemed to go smoothly but neither Haggard nor Marlowe noticed the woman in the gray raincoat, looking at an old fashioned PDA, when they came back. She waited until they'd entered the truck before pressing a few buttons on the device's touchscreen, calling her boss.

"Found them." Was all she said.


	12. Chapter 12

Cyra sighed in contentment, allowing herself to relax a little, as she turned slowly under the warm jets of water. The hotel, they were staying in had certainly seen better days. It wasn't exactly shabby and the rooms were actually quite large but the furniture looked worn, the formerly automatic doors had to be opened by hand and the vid-screen didn't work right either. There was nothing wrong with the showers however, as the young asari had been grateful to learn and she'd seized the opportunity to take a shower immediately after Haggard, Sweetwater and McCoy had left, taking Lt. Murphy to the nearest hospital. She regretted that she couldn't accompany them but a minor incident at the hotel's front desk had convinced her that it was better if she kept out of sight as much as possible.

Her men, especially Marlowe, had become quite angry when the desk clerk, a smarmy looking, rat-faced individual, had mentioned with a lecherous grin, that, instead of credits, he'd accept a different method of payment as well. Caught flat footed by this proposal she had been a little slow to act when the sniper had taken the leering man by the scruff of his neck. Fortunately she'd still been able to calm the Corporal down before it had come to blows.

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, not even bothering to check if it was clean before she proceeded to dry herself thinking about this incident again. The vehemence Marlowe's reaction had surprised her greatly. She, admittedly, hadn't gotten to know him very well in the short time they'd served together but still, flying off the handle like that did seem rather unusual for him. The asari maiden shrugged, as she began to put on a set of fresh clothes. Everyone was on edge due to their situation and finding out that their gunship had been sabotaged hadn't really helped either.

Thoughtlessly throwing the stolen clothes into a wall mounted trash bin, Cyra exited the small bathroom and sat down in a worn but comfortable armchair. Since the revelation of the sabotage she'd been racking her brain, trying to figure out who could have done it or why. Had the team itself been targeted or had the saboteur picked a random gunship? Had they just been unlucky? Suddenly her eyelids seemed to become heavy and she yawned widely. _'Come on girl, stay awake. You shouldn't...'_ She dozed off before she could finish the thought, her head falling to the side.

* * *

"Sweets, where are you?" Haggard asked, after dialing the appropriate number on the cheap communicator. McCoy and himself were on their way back to the hotel on foot, while Sweetwater was trying to find a safe spot to park the stolen delivery truck. The demolition expert scowled at the communicator impatiently when the tech didn't answer right away. He was about to call again when Sweetwater finally answered.

"I'm on my way. Parked the truck inside an abandoned warehouse. Where are you at?"

"Couple of blocks away from the hotel." Haggard said, relaying their position to his buddy.

"I'm pretty close, wait for me."

"Lovely neighborhood." Haggard commented dryly while they waited for their team mate, looking at the surrounding buildings. Many of them looked deserted and most of the rest about as run down as the cheap hotel they'd checked into just before they drove to the hospital. "And I thought downtown Dallas was bad." He remarked jokingly, throwing McCoy a wink.

The medic didn't smile at that, glancing around uneasily instead. There weren't a lot of people walking about but looking at the few that were in sight she was glad she wasn't alone. The sooner she got off the streets and back in the hotel the better, although from what she'd seen so far, the staff didn't seem much more trustworthy than the riff-raff that was loafing around out here. Then again if she'd had a choice she'd stayed away from Haggard as well. So far she hadn't been able to figure the demolitions expert out. Most of the time he appeared to be just an average marine, and a quite funny one at that. But sometimes he scared her. Sometimes he seemed like a volcano that was about to erupt. Like there was a monster in his head he was barely able to control.

She took some comfort in the fact that Murphy was finally getting the treatment he needed. She had been able to stay with the pilot long enough to hear the attending doctor order immediate surgery. She would have stayed longer but the others had dragged her away because they'd spotted policemen looking for them.

Not for the first time the young asian woman asked herself, what she was doing here. _'You could be studying at a university now, get a hot shower twice a day, sleep in a soft, comfortable bed. But noooo! You had to be a marine! Stupid!' _That moment of self pity went by quickly however as she reminded herself that, while life as a marine was certainly a lot less comfortable than the life she'd walked away from, at least she didn't feel like a slave here.

"Neighborhood, reminding you of home, Hags?" Sweetwater said, grinning broadly as he crossed the street to join them.

Haggard snickered, looking around once more. "Yeah a little bit." He replied with an exaggerated sigh. "There is something missing though." He pretended think about it for a moment. "Yeah definitely something missing. It's too quiet. No police sirens." He chuckled as the three of them began to walk back to the hotel.

"Speaking of the police...Those cops at the hospital came nosing around awfully quickly didn't they?" The demolitions expert wondered aloud. "Almost as if somebody told them, where we were."

"Are you sure, they were looking for us?" Sweetwater asked. "I mean, they could have been there for any number of reasons."

"Sure? No I am not sure." Haggard shrugged. "Yeah, it could have been just a coincidence and these cops just happened to be at the hospital but..." He let the sentence hang in the air unfinished and for a minute they walked in silence before Sweetwater spoke again.

"You're getting paranoid, Hags."

He'd meant it as a joke but instead of laughing, Haggard just sighed again. "Maybe. Anyway I just thought 'better safe than sorry' so I got us out of there." He said softly, staring in the distance with a unreadable look on his face.

For a second Sweetwater stared at Haggard dumfounded, trying to determine if he was serious or just making fun of him. The loud, sarcastic and sometimes cynical side of his squad mate he'd gotten used to over the years. The thoughtful side was something he'd seen very rarely.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"I don't know. Something about this whole damned business just feels...bad." The PFC said shaking his head slightly then suddenly fixed Sweetwater with a hard stare. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Wha? Why me? What do you mean?"

"Oh come on man!" Haggard exclaimed, loudly enough that several heads turned in their direction. "You know something don't you? I mean I saw how you reacted when the LT asked about the sabotage of our gunship."

"Shhhh, keep it down man." Sweetwater hissed glancing around furtively. He thought about playing the innocent but decided against it. He was afraid it would only make things worse. "You wanna tell the whole goddamned city?"

"Hey, no change of the subject, Sweets." Haggard frowned but lowered the volume of his voice considerably. "Well? What IS going on?"

"Not out here okay?" The tech replied, scowling at the other man. "Besides, I don't really KNOW anything, I just...Let's get off the street, shall we?"

"Fine, but I am really keen to hear what you don't really know."

There was an awkward silence and Sweetwater tried to think of something else they could talk about.

"Marlowe sure got pissed when that little weasel at the hotel tried hitting on Shepard." He eventually said with a grin.

"Yeah." Haggard agreed and chuckled, his bad mood vanishing momentarily. "For a minute there it looked like he was going to rip that guy's head off."

"You know, if I didn't know better I'd almost think our sniper buddy is into the Lieutenant."

"What? Are you serious? That would be..." Haggard shook his head in disbelief. "Nah come on that can't be. Not 'Iceman' Marlowe. He wouldn't fall for any chick that quickly. He ain't a teenager with a surplus of hormones after all."

"Well, I said 'if I didn't know better' didn't I? Still, the way he reacted seemed a little weird. I mean, have you ever seen him leap at somebody's throat like that before?"

"Hmm, you got a point there." The demolitions expert had to admit. "Maybe he just didn't like that slimy little punk. I sure as hell didn't."

"I know what you mean."

"Besides, he has always been a bit of a Shepard fanboy so maybe he's feeling a little overprotective towards our new Lieutenant."

"Could be." Sweetwater said, nodding thoughtfully. "McCoy what do you think?"

"Me?" The young woman seemed to be surprised that she was being addressed. "What can I say? You two know him a lot better than I do so..."

"Oh, come on, doc." The tech teased. "What about that famous female intuition thingy I keep hearing about?" He smiled innocently. "Is it famous or infamous? I can never decide."

The medic giggled softly. "Can't help you with that at the moment. " She replied, stifling a yawn. "I think, my body has shut down all non-essential systems until it gets some rest so no intuition right now. For the time being, if you have a problem, slap medi-gel on it and come see me again tomorrow."

"Sure thing doc." Sweetwater laughed, looking at her curiously as he realized that until now they hadn't had the opportunity to talk.

"Where are you from anyway?" He asked.

McCoy suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. "Why do you ask?"

Sweetwaters eyebrows rose in astonishment. "Oh, I'm just curious, just a marine wanting to know something about a fellow trooper."

The young woman bit her lip, hesitating for a second. "Osaka." She finally replied. "I'm from Osaka."

"That's a city on Earth isn't it?" The tech inquired."Nice place?"

McCoy turned her head away. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Sweetwater exchanged glances with Haggard, his brows rising even further as he wondered what the problem could be. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad. I mean, Hags here is from Dallas. Can't be any worse than that."

"Hey!" Haggard protested with an exaggerated scowl. "I'm the only one here who has any right to complain about Dallas! Ye hear, ye freaking mall-rat?"

"Sure man, sure." The tech grinned. "But you got to admit..." Before he could go on, a man came running around the corner in front of them, looking over his shoulder fearfully as he went past them.

"That guy sure is in a hurry." Haggard said with a frown.

"Not just him." Sweetwater replied. Curiously enough everybody in sight was moving away quickly.

"What the..." Haggard looked around the corner and froze. "Sweets! Get your communicator out right now and try to contact Marlowe, I'll call Shepard."

"Why? What is it?"

"Take a look."

Sweetwater paled as he glanced around the corner. Three delivery trucks, similar to the one they'd stolen were parked in front of their hotel, unloading about two dozen men and women. None of them wore any armor but they were armed. Pistols, baseball bats and knives in hand, they entered the hotel one after the other.

"Looks like some sort of gang."

"Yeah." Haggard growled. "Call me crazy but I bet they're looking for us." He brought his own communicator to his mouth. "Lieutenant! Come in!"

* * *

"Lieutenant! Come in!" The voice seemed to come from far away. Cyra's eyes opened into narrow slits. Not fully awake yet she looked to the left, looked to the right. "Ah shit!" He eyes popped open when she realized she'd fallen asleep. Felling still a little groggy she shook her head to clear it as she sat up, looking for the source of the voice.

"Lieutenant come in damn it!" There it was again. Cyra dropped to her knees to look underneath the armchair she'd been sleeping in. Wondering how the communicator had ended up down there she picked it up. The asari maiden suppressed a groan as she pushed a little button on the device's side to answer.

"I'm here Haggard, what is it?"

"Finally!" The PFC roared, impatience and the seriousness of the situation making him forget he was talking to a superior. "Listen LT, I think you're going to get company!"

"What?" An adrenaline rush washed away the remaining fatigue instantly.

"About two dozen armed guys entered the Hotel about a minute ago. Looks like a criminal gang. Not sure what they're after but you better get out of there."

Cyra could hear footsteps outside her room. "Looks like they're already here." She said, picking up her pistol and her knife from the small table in the middle of the room. Catching the communicator between cheek and shoulder, pistol in her left, knife in her right hand she knelt down. "Where are you guys?"

" About fifty meters from the entrance. North of the entrance to be precise."

"Have you been spotted?"

"Don't think so, at least no one is coming our way. What do you want us to do?"

Before the young asari could answer the door opened slightly and somebody threw a small metal cylinder into the room. Cyra immediately dove to the ground, turning her head away as the flash-bang went off. Her ears ringing she groped about as she realized she'd dropped her pistol. When she didn't immediately find it she scrambled to her feet to defend herself with her knife and her biotics but before she could turn around a male human grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side.

"Easy darlin'." A coarse voice said. The guy holding her laughed evilly. "My, my what do we have here? Too bad we don't have time for..."

Cyra was able to free her right arm partially, thrusting her knife up to the hilt into the man's thigh. He screamed in pain and alarm, his grip weakening enough that she could fully break it. She whirled around and sunk the blade into the human's kidney with a lightning quick jab then twisted it ninety degrees for good measure. The man let out a weak gurgle as his body stiffened and dropped to the floor.

For a second the other intruders stared at her in bewilderment, trying to understand what had just happened. The asari maiden acted before they were able to shake their paralysis. Leaping at the nearest of her attackers carrying a gun, she grabbed the man's weapon, ramming the knife through one of his eyes. He collapsed without making as sound, dead, before he hit the ground.

The pistol got knocked out of her hand by a baseball bat before she could make use of it. Using her attacker's own momentum against him Cyra sent him crashing into a chair, halfway across the room. She was barely able to block the first blow from the guy that came right behind but she managed to catch him in a devious joint lock on his second attempt. Briefly using the male human as a shield she gathered up strength for a biotic attack that pushed a group ,that had just entered the room, back out again.

The biotic strike gave her 'shield' the opportunity to break free however and he came at her with a knife. Cyra effortlessly dodged the clumsy attack and viciously kicked him in the hollow of his knee. Grabbing a handful of his hair she yanked his head back and struck his larynx with the edge of her hand, hard enough that it fractured. As he fell down, thrashing and writhing in a vain attempt to breathe, the guy she'd sent flying through the room was jumping to his feet, her pistol in hand but before he could use it the asari maiden hit him with a biotic push that propelled him through the window behind him. She heard a scream, then a thud and then a brief silence as she reached down to pick up a gun, lying on the floor.

The victims of her first biotic attack were just getting back up. She greeted the first one through the door with a double-tap to the chest. The second one got a round right between the eyes but the third put one through her right shoulder. She gasped as she dropped to her knees, the pistol falling out of her hand.

Several more people stormed into the room, pushing her down. "Fucking asari bitch!" One of them coughed. She felt an injection needle being jabbed into her lower back. The last thing she heard before the lights went out was a woman screaming: "Brody! Put the fucking gun down! We're not getting paid for a corpse!"

* * *

"Damn it!" Haggard exclaimed as he heard several shots right after a guy had been thrown out the window. "Anything from Marlowe?"

"Nope, he went of the air too." Sweetwater replied.

The demolitions expert cursed again, more that a little pissed that he hadn't taken his sidearm with him. "Sweets! Go get the truck! We need our gear pronto!"

"But it's a couple a hundred meters away!" The tech protested loudly. "I'll never make it back here in time!"

"Get it anyway!" Haggard yelled. At this point he didn't care whether the whole city knew, who they were. Sweetwater hesitated for a moment, then turned around and ran off.

Barely able to restrain himself, Haggard watched in frustration as his squad-mates' limp bodies were dragged out the front door and shoved into the trucks. Right now he didn't think, or care, about who those guys were or what they could want. He knew only that once he had his shotgun he would make those fuckers pay, no matter what. To hell with trying to 'keep a low profile'!


	13. Chapter 13

Henry Jones was barely able to resist the urge to groan as he rubbed his forehead morosely. For a moment he cursed director Fisher for putting him in a situation where he had to hire these brain-dead goons. The moment went by quickly however. One did not get far in his line of work if one yammered about a given situation. One thought about possibilities how to handle it.

"I specifically told you to wait until all of them are together before you move in." He sighed at the elderly woman standing before him. "Those two are useless to us without the others."

"Don't you worry about that boyo. We'll get you the rest of them in due time." The woman replied with a raspy, surprisingly deep voice. "But you do owe me an explanation. That asari bitch killed six of my boys. And the other dude two more."

"I am terribly sorry about your boys." Jones snorted, unable to fully keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he looked at the small woman. Not for the first time he wondered how Big M, as the men called her, was able to keep that band of misfits, she was leading, in line. Superficially she looked like a perfectly sweet old lady but there was certainly more to her than met the eye. From what he'd seen so far the men were almost fanatically loyal to her.

"And why would I owe you an explanation?"

"You failed to tell me how dangerous they were."

"I'm sorry, what?" Jones' eyes narrowed to slits. "I told you we were looking for a special forces team. Don't blame it on me if you fail to draw the right conclusions or your people don't take them seriously enough."

"Still the way I see it, a bonus is in order. They were good boys."

_'The nerve of that woman!' _The black ops agent bit back a scornful reply. An argument would be counter-productive at this point. "We'll talk about that once you bring me the others. You won't see a dime until we got all four of them."

"Four?" Big M gave him a sly look. "Originally you talked about five."

"Oh, of course." Jones could have kicked himself that he'd let it slip. "We don't really need the medic. What was her name again?" He picked up a data pad from the table and pushed a few buttons. "Ah yes, McCoy. She's not a regular part of the team."

"What do you want us to do with her?"

"I leave that to you."

An evil smile appeared on the woman's face as she took the data pad from him, looking at the picture. "Now you're talking." She grinned cruelly. "A pretty girl like that? Should fetch a handsome..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the picture of the young asian a little more closely, her eyes widening a little bit.

"What is it?" Jones asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"Nothing." She shrugged innocently and put the pad back down. "Anyway If that's all I'll send my boys out to find them now. After all I wouldn't want to keep you from 'having fun' with your prisoners. I'm sure you've been looking forward to it all day."

"Very funny." Jones muttered as he watched her leaving the room. He picked up the pad again and looked at the medic's picture once more, wondering what this had been all about. He'd studied the medic's personnel file of course, but hadn't found anything unusual and the old snake hadn't shown any such reaction to Shepard. As a precaution he hadn't told them the asari's real name but still. He briefly thought about looking further into McCoy's background but decided against it. He had other things to do. Preparing himself for an interrogation for example.

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind her Big M increased her pace considerably. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this excited. With a little luck she'd just found the ticket to get off this godawful backwater planet in style. Casting glances left and right, checking if any of the two other 'spooks' were nearby, she stormed through the building, heading for the common room. After a last look over her shoulder she entered the room and let her gaze wander until she found her second in command.

"Cody!" She beckoned him over, her mind working to figure out, how to handle the situation best.

"Yes Big M?"

"All right listen." She said in a low voice and walked over to a large, old fashioned paper map of the city that dominated the wall to the left. "It's time to send the boys back out again. We need to find the other three guys. Have the scouts reported anything in that regard?"

"Nothing so far." Cody shook his head in denial.

"Okay fine." She thought for a moment, then pointed at a section of the map. "Begin the search here. There are a lot of abandoned structures there and it's fairly close to the hotel."

Big M rubbed her forehead. "I'd say send them out in groups of three. And Cody! I don't want to lose any more of my boys so make certain, whoever finds them, calls for reinforcements before they try to take them on."

"Right, I'll tell them." He said an wanted to leave but she grabbed his arm holding him back.

"Not so fast, there's one more thing. Make sure the girl doesn't get harmed in any way."

He frowned, wondering why his boss would bother about that. "Sure, I mean we need them alive anyway, right?"

"I don't just want her alive! I want her absolutely unharmed!" She snarled, slapping his arm in annoyance. Cody's eyes widened in bewilderment. He couldn't remember the last time she snapped at him like that. "I mean it! If I see any bruises or scratches on her, I'll have the balls of the guy who did it for breakfast! Beat that into everyone's head if you have to!"

"What's this all about?" He asked curiously, hastily raising his hands in a defensive gesture when he heard her inhale sharply. "Of course, I'll make sure no one touches her but ,if you don't mind me asking, why does she get special treatment?"

"I need to do some digging before I can tell you more." Big M said as she calmed down again. "Anyway, separate her from the others and lock her up somewhere out of sight of those black ops fellas. Got it?"

"Will do." He said with a nod and walked over to the rest of the men, shouting at them to gather up around him. She watched him giving orders for a moment, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Then she walked out the door, heading for her private room where she had a secure extranet terminal.

* * *

Haggard was pacing around inside the prefab like a caged tiger. As expected the attackers had been long gone when Sweetwater got back with their gear. Unable to do anything to help their squad-mates at the time they'd decided to find an abandoned building to try to figure out what to do next. The problem was no one seemed to have any idea at the moment.

Getting more frustrated by the minute the demolitions expert suddenly exclaimed: "All right, what just happened?" He glared back and forth between the two of them for a few seconds then continued when neither Sweetwater nor McCoy said anything. "I mean what the hell is going on?"

"First our gunship get's sabotaged." He ticked off on his fingers. "We get stranded, we run into overzealous cops at the hospital and then we get jumped at the hotel not two hours after we checked in. Either we got a really bad run of bad luck or we stumbled into something really sinister here."

Haggard continued to stare at his squad-mate's. "SAY SOMETHING DAMN IT!" He roared angrily causing both of them to flinch.

"Like what?" Sweetwater demanded, throwing up his hands helplessly. "What do you wanna hear man?"

The demolitions-expert looked like he was going to explode momentarily but then he let himself fall into a chair. Or at least he wanted to. The chair was so old and worn that it broke and Haggard landed on the floor in a heap of plastic parts and curses. Time seemed to stop for a tiny moment as the three marines stared at each other in stunned silence. Then Sweetwater burst into hysterical laughter, repeatedly pounding on the table. Haggard and McCoy followed only a fraction of a second afterward and laughed until their bellies ached.

"Oh brother, that felt good." The tech said, sitting back in his chair, as he regained control of his senses. McCoy wiped away the tears of laughter as Haggard got back on his feet with an exaggerated groan. He walked through the room to pick up an other chair, carefully checking it's stability before he pulled it up to the table and sat down.

"You know Sweets." He said calmly, the smiles around the table slowly vanishing, as the reality of their situation sank back in. "I think it's about time, you told us what you know."

The tech looked uncomfortable and sighed heavily before he started to speak in a soft voice. "As I said before I don't really _know_ anything but...You remember the data we took from that research base a few days ago?" He asked, waiting for Haggard to nod before he continued. "I err... kinda made a copy of it and..."

"You what?" Haggard's eyebrows shot up in genuine puzzlement. "What for?"

"You know Hags, I've been asking myself that same thing a lot during the last couple of days." Sweetwater shrugged, staring at an imaginary point far, far away. "Maybe it was because the captain told us to keep our eyes open, maybe I was just curious." He smirked. "Or maybe I was trying to impress our new Lieutenant by finding out what the big secret behind it all was. " The smirk vanished and the private sighed heavily. "I don't know, but...but it's...it's possible that it's my fault we're in this mess."

Haggard frowned. "Your fault? How do you figure that?"

"Well, either I've mysteriously unlearned everything about data mining or this bio-weapons bullshit is just a cover story for something else." The tech said, scratching the back of his head.

"You had a look at the data?"

"Not just a look! I had search programs going over it day and night and I found nothing. No mention of any kind of weapon. Neither biological, nor chemical, nor conventional. Nothing. At. All." Sweetwater puffed disparagingly. "But those overpaid intelligence jackasses dig out enough to justify the kidnapping of a civilian in just a day or two? Sure."

"Yeah well I would guess that AI has a wee bit more resources at their disposal than you do."

"I know that all right?" The tech exclaimed heatedly. If there was anything that could get a rise out of him it was when somebody questioned his hacking skills. "But I know what I am doing! I've been doing this since I was old enough to use a computer for crying out loud! Sure, little me isn't able to analyze data as thoroughly as them! But if there really had been weapons data in there I would have found at least something."

The Private sat back in his chair, briefly staring at his hands. "I guess whoever is behind it all somehow found out I copied the data and decided to get rid of me, of us."

"And who would that be?"

The tech smiled thinly. "How about Director Fisher?"

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that."

"It's the only thing that makes sense." Sweetwater nodded grimly. "You said it yourself that we were either really unlucky or caught up in something sinister. Our bad guy must have had access to the hangar, he must have known that we were still alive and he must have had the means to send that gang after us. I can't think of anybody else on the ship that fits."

"So we may have one of the most powerful men in the galaxy after our hides." Haggard stated soberly. "Great, just Great!" The demolitions-expert groaned and turned toward the medic. "McCoy is there any alcohol in your medical supplies? I could use a drink right about now. Couple of bottles of Jack Daniels oughta do it."

"Sorry, no." She replied with a confused look on her face. "But could you guys please tell me what's going on? I feel a bit lost."

Letting Sweetwater do the explaining, Haggard stood up and began pacing up and down the room again. He mentally seesawed for a few moments trying to figure out their chances. He didn't like what he was coming up with. The only, very small, silver lining he could think of at this time was who their Lieutenant's parents were. With a lot of friends in very high places, they were probably among the few people in the galaxy that could access resources, similar to those of Director Fisher. But of course she'd only just gotten captured.

He continued to mull over their situation until Sweetwater interrupted him, asking: "So, what are we going to do now?"

"Why do you ask me? Do I look like a fucking officer to you?" Haggard growled morosely then pulled himself together. Snapping at his squad-mate and friend wasn't going to do any good. "To tell you the truth I have no idea."

"Shouldn't we try to free Shepard and Marlowe? " McCoy piped up.

Haggard bit back a sarcastic comment. "Yeah sure." He said instead, looking at the medic with raised eyebrows. "But we don't even know where those punks took them, much less how to get them out of wherever they are. And besides the three of us aren't much of a rescue squad."

"We still got our gear Hags." Sweetwater reminded him. "With the kind of hardware we have with us we can do a lot of damage."

"Perhaps." The demolitions-expert nodded thoughtfully. "But it doesn't help us to find our where our people are."

"I know, I'm just saying that if nothing else we got superior gear, that's all."

None of them spoke for a while, everyone busy with their own thoughts. Surprisingly it was McCoy who eventually broke the silence. "So, if I understood you correctly, you believe those guys captured Shepard and Marlowe because they were paid by the Director of Alliance Intelligence. Right?"

"That's about it, yes" Sweetwater replied, rubbing his temples in an attempt to get rid of a mild headache. "Why? You got another theory?"

"Nono. I just thought we should take a few precautions in case they come back, looking for us."

"Good idea." Haggard agreed, scratching his itching chin as he walked towards the door. "Let's put our stuff on. At least they won't catch us with our pants down again...so to speak."

Sweetwater chuckled as he and McCoy followed him outside, heading for their truck. The neighborhood looked dreary to say the least. The prefabs around looked so old and dirty, they were probably leftovers from the early days of colonization. The ground was littered with debris and junk. The charred and twisted remains of a skycar were garnished atop one of the nearest buildings like some sort of bizarre art piece. Curiously enough the one thing remarkable around was a small, neglected memorial on a hill nearby, saying that this was the place where a Collector ship landed in 2185. The tech found it a little weird, a memorial like that wasn't looked after. He guessed that the devastation, the Reapers had caused only a few years later, made the few thousand names inscribed on the marble plate seem insignificant by comparison. Sweetwater shrugged those thoughts off as he took his gear out of the truck. He didn't really care about why a memorial was being neglected did he? He had more immediate things to worry about.

Haggard and himself suited up outside, giving the young medic the privacy she needed to change. The armor was designed so that a soldier could easily and quickly put it on his or her own. Nevertheless it took the men more that ten minutes to do it. McCoy did it a little bit faster, struggling somewhat less with her medium suit, than the two of them with their heavies.

"So, any ideas what we could do to now?" Sweetwater asked as they were checking each-other's gear to make sure everything was properly in place. He had to admit, he felt a good deal safer with his armor on. The thought of a street gang looking for him had been a little unnerving.

"Well, those gangers should know, where our Shepard and Marlowe are, right?" McCoy piped up. "So if they do come looking for us we could try to grab one of them and get it out of him?"

"Hmmm. Not a bad idea actually." Haggard said raising an eyebrow. "But I'd rather not sit around and wait for them to find us. That could take a while and we don't know what's happening to our people in the mean time."

"You know, I just thought of something." Sweetwater cut in with a thoughtful look on his face. "Think back to when those punks stormed the hotel. Wasn't there something missing?"

"What do mean?" The demolitions-expert frowned fiercely then shook his head. "Just spit it out man! We don't have time to play guessing games."

"There was no police."

"So?"

"Come on, Hags. A street gang invades a hotel, capturing two of the guests and nobody calls the police?"

"I know a couple of districts in Dallas where people ain't calling the police about this sort of thing either." Haggard replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Sure you do." Sweetwater scoffed, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. "But I still think it's weird. I mean as you said before: They were on us awfully quickly."

"You think the hotel staff knows who those assholes are? Maybe even called them?"

"Why not? It couldn't hurt to go back there and 'ask', could it?"

"Yeah why not?" Haggard's face split into a feral grin. "Why not indeed. It might actually hurt though. But not us."

* * *

When Cyra came to she found herself bound to an uncomfortable chair. She quickly found out that whoever tied her arms and legs to the chair had known what he'd been doing. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't move even a tiny bit. Giving up her struggles for the time being she looked around the room, grateful that at least her head wasn't restrained in any way. Aside from herself the room was completely empty. Except for the opposite wall, which seemed to be a single, large mirror, the walls were painted in a dark green.

She thought about trying to use her biotics but only for a moment. What was she going to use them on? The chair? That wouldn't do her any good. The only thing that would most likely accomplish was her falling over. Not that she could do a whole lot, sitting here but as uncomfortable being strapped to this chair was, it was almost certainly better than being strapped to it while lying on the ground. Especially since, on top of everything else, there was her wounded shoulder.

It didn't actually hurt all that bad at this time but it was, of course, still not very pleasant. The young asari didn't want to think about how bad it would be if she ended up lying on her bad side. Instead her thoughts went back to what had occurred at the hotel. What had happened to her men? Had they been captured too? Haggard had warned her about the imminent attack just before the room had been stormed so there was a fair chance, him, Sweetwater and McCoy had gotten away. But what about Marlowe?

The door opened with a faint hiss interrupting her musings. If her predicament wasn't so serious she would have laughed at the two men that entered the room. Wearing sunglasses and dark suits they looked so much like secret agents from a cheesy vid it was almost comical. Almost. Any amusement she might have felt vanished quickly however, when one of them removed his glasses. His dark eyes stared at her with no emotions of any description. They scared her although she did her best not to show a reaction. For some reason the human reminded her of one of those carnivorous fish native to her father's home planet.

"I admit I would never have thought that, one day, a Shepard would end up in my custody." The other one began to speak without taking his sunglasses off as he studied a data-pad. "You know, I always admired your father. Life can be so weird sometimes wouldn't you agree?" He asked in a dark, not unpleasant voice as his colleague walked behind her.

"You didn't have me kidnapped and brought here to talk to me about life did you?" Cyra replied with a frown, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "How do you know my name, and...who are you anyway?"

"You needn't burden yourself with who we are." He briefly looked at her with a raised eyebrow before going back to reading the pad. "They tell me you put on quite a show at the hotel." He said absently. His other eyebrow shot up behind the sunglasses and he let out an impressed whistle. "Chief Ryback thinks very highly of your skills. Never seen a personal note of praise from him in a file before."

"How the hell did you get my file?" Cyra demanded. The files of N7 qualified troopers were supposed to be highly classified. The man behind her almost casually put a hand on her wounded shoulder and squeezed. The young asari was barely able to keep herself from screaming out loud as the pain made her eyes water, groaning through clenched teeth instead.

"We'll be asking the questions here if you don't mind." The man with the data-pad said as calmly and impersonally as if he was talking about the weather.

"Then why don't you just start asking and be done with it?" Cyra croaked hoarsely, as the guy behind her finally took his and away.

"Fine, if you're in such a hurry." The other man shrugged. "What did you do with the data?"

"What data?"

"The data you and your team took from the McKenzie Enterprises research facility a couple of days ago."

The asari maiden had to pull herself together in order to not show a reaction to that. How the hell did they know that? "I don't know what you're talking about, mister." She said.

"Oh really?" Datapad, as she started to call him in her mind, smirked. "Let's see if we can help you remember in any way." He nodded towards his comrade who gave her shoulder an other squeeze holding on longer this time.

"Is that the best you can do?" She managed to growl after he'd finally released her. "I grew up with three biotic sisters all right? Compared to that, this is cake."

Datapad chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Why do they always start with bravado?" He wondered aloud, talking more to himself than to the others. "I've seen this so many times. Believe me you will tell us what we need to know eventually. You might as well do so now and safe yourself the pain."

Cyra's jaw tightened visibly. "We'll see about that."

"Okay, then I am going to ask you again: What did you do with the data. And before you answer...We know that Private Sweetwater made a copy of it so denial isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Sweetwater? Who's that supposed to be?"

Datapad sighed. "I really hoped I wouldn't have to do this."

"Do what? You'll have the little prick behind me jab me in the shoulder again?"

"Not exactly." He replied, took a small injector out of one of his pockets and stepped closer.

"Oh so you're trying it with a truth drug or something? I got nothing to tell you."

"Nope, too unreliable and one can be trained to resist the effects at least partially." He said. "But I am sure you already know that. N7 soldiers get trained to do just that if I remember correctly."

The injector hissed softly as it released a drug inside the asari's bloodstream. "No, this is something brand new. So new in fact, that it didn't get labeled so far." Cyra got the distinct impression that he was enjoying himself immensely and that scared her more than anything else. "Then again a drug like that will probably never get a label. You see it is normally absolutely harmless but if an electric current of the right frequency...Ah well Bert, why don't you just show her?" He said with another nod towards his buddy.

At first Cyra only felt a slight tickle as the man behind her gently pressed something she couldn't see against her right upper arm. Then, all of a sudden, excruciating pain exploded in said arm. It felt as if it was ablaze.

This time she wasn't able to keep herself from screaming. It seemed like an eternity until her tormentor took, whatever it was that caused the pain, away.

"Painful isn't it?" Datapad asked as the asari maiden panted heavily, trying to regain control of her senses. "The good thing about this is that it causes no permanent damage whatsoever. So we can keep this up for hours, days, even weeks..."

He paused for a moment to let the information sink in. "Now, again. What did you do with the data? Who else on the ship knows about it?"

Cyra swallowed hard and pursed her lips into a tight line. "Shepard, Cyra, A. Systems Alliance Second Lieutenant. Serial number 1120-07-2601-0603."

"As you wish." He shrugged. "Bert?"

The young asari's howls of pain seemed to make the walls tremble.


	14. Chapter 14

Okay, I've finally checked out the ME3 Extended Cut. Yeah, it's definitely better than it was before. Wouldn't exactly call it 'good' but at least it doesn't leave you behind with the feeling that everything has gone to hell.

Anyway I decided to give this story another shot, that is if you people are still interested in reading it. Thanks to the EC changes I won't even have to label it AU.

So here goes.

* * *

Cyra's body relaxed a little, as the pain stopped. The young asari was panting heavily. She had no idea, how long she was being interrogated. The mind-numbing pain had washed away her sense of time or the ability to think straight.

"Well?" One of her tormentors asked, the tone of his voice pleasant as if he was talking about the weather. "Are you ready to talk yet?"

Cyra wanted to tell him to go to hell but it came out as an incomprehensible babble. Pulling herself together she instead, once again, mumbled her name, rank and serial number. The pain came back instantly.

* * *

"Stop it!" In the adjacent room Marlowe struggled with the straps that bound him to a metal chair as he heard the asari scream again. The 'headquarter' of the gang, that had captured them, was an abandoned police station, interrogation room and everything. The Corporal clenched his teeth. The worst thing about it was that his chair had been placed directly in front of the sheath of glass that separated the two room, basically forcing him to helplessly watch the whole thing. At this point Marlowe actually wished he'd be the one being tortured and he flinched every time Cyra's body convulsed in pain.

"We'll get to you in due time." The secret agent, at least Marlowe figured the three guys had to be something like that, said patting him on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about that."

The agent's eyes narrowed as he noticed that the Corporal wasn't paying attention. He walked around the bound man, studying his face for a few moments.

"Wait a minute." The agent finally said, a thin smile appearing on his face. "You don't have feelings for your CO, do you?"

That did get Marlowe's attention. "Fuck off!" He snarled with an angry glare.

"We can stop this in a heartbeat, just tell us what we need to know."

"Go to hell." The sniper puffed, knowing full well, that as soon as the agents got what they needed, whatever it was, they would just put a bullet in each of their heads.

"Maybe we should change our method of interrogation then." The agent suggested. "Maybe something...hmmm... less painful?" He added with a lecherous grin. Not that they were actually going to do what he implied. While black ops teams did just about anything to get the job done, sexual assault was something not even they ventured into. Marlowe, however, didn't know that as he let out a loud roar.

"I'll kill you sons of bitches!" He spat out through clenched teeth, wildly tearing at the shackles until a few drops of blood ran down one of his arms.

"Well, good luck with that." The other man replied dryly. "Ah, no matter." He shrugged. "We'll get the rest of your team soon enough. If you're not going to talk, one of them will."

It took Marlowe a while to regain his composure. "I wouldn't bother, trying to find them bro." He eventually said. "They'll come here on their own. Count on it."

"I doubt, they're that crazy, even if they knew where we were."

"Oh don't worry they'll find their way. If I were you I'd get outta here while I still could."

"I'm shaking." The agent replied with a sarcastic snort.

* * *

"There he is." Sweetwater said, staring at the live-feed from his recon-drone's camera. "Hags! Wake up!"

"Finally." Haggard groaned as he sat up in the van's driver's seat, rubbing his eyes with a wide yawn. He briefly checked the small clock built in next to the vehicle controls. "Almost an hour of sleep." He mumbled to himself, before raising his voice a bit. "Which way is he going?" He asked as he started the truck's engine.

"Looks like he's going home." Sweetwater replied after rechecking the local police's files on their target. Initially he'd hacked into the police network to tap into surveillance cameras only to find out that there were none in this part of the city. Undaunted he'd looked for files of the hotel staff and got several hits. Most of the files contained only minor stuff. Speeding tickets and things like that. However in the file of the desk clerk, in addition to his home address, favorite watering hole and so on, there was a small note that said he had been hanging around with a local street gang in the past.

"Right." The demo-expert said as the vehicle slowly came off the ground. "So where do I go?"

After getting proper directions from his comrade, Haggard slowly guided the truck out of the back yard he'd used as parking space. He muttered a curse, his eyes narrowing as he moved into the open and got blinded by Horizon's star. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust before he proceeded onto the dirty street. He drove down the road slowly and carefully, stifling another yawn as he went. The nap had helped a little but it was still kind of hard keeping his eyes open and focused on the street. It didn't help matters that the van's controls were clearly not designed to be used, wearing heavy armor.

"See any place where we could snatch him without drawing too much attention to ourselves?" He asked.

"Not yet." Came Sweetwater's answer. Judging from his voice the tech was just as tired as he was. "Too many people around."

They'd decided to shadow the desk clerk once he'd left the hotel, waiting for an opportunity to grab him quietly. If none presented itself they'd capture him at his home.

"Stop for a bit. We're getting too far ahead."

Haggard did as he was told. The road, he used ran parallel to the one their target walked on so he had to rely on Sweetwater's directions. He glanced around as he waited. No one seemed to take notice of their truck. At least something.

"Hags! He's just entered a back alley." Sweetwater exclaimed, startling his buddy. "If you step on it we can catch him on the other side. The demo-expert got the truck moving quickly but only a few moments later the tech told him he could slow down again.

"He entered a building." Was the curt explanation.

"Any idea what's in that house?" Haggard asked as he reached the back alley Sweetwater had directed him to.

"I'll check online...just a minute." The tech said, logging into the city's extranet. "Great." He said a few moments later. "It seems to be a brothel."

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Haggard exclaimed, briefly burrowing his head in his hands. "Now we gotta wait for this horny bastard again."

"Nice guy." McCoy, who'd been looking over Sweetwater's shoulder in silence, commented dryly.

"Yeah." Haggard growled, rubbing his forehead. "I'm half thinking to go in there and drag that scum bag out by his underpants."

"So, what do we do now?" The medic asked, giggling softly at the mental image.

"We wait, what else?" Haggard shrugged, scratching his head. "Any idea which way he's gona go when he's done?"

"If he really is going home he should come our way again." The Private replied. "But leave the engine running. In case he's going the other way we'll have to move fast if we want to catch him before he leaves the alley."

"We can't just stay out here and wait with a running engine." Haggard observed a few minutes later. "People are beginning to stare. Sweets, find me a spot where we're out of sight, will ya?"

"You know, it looks like the alley is wide enough for our truck." Sweetwater said after a moment on thinking. "Looks like there's even enough space to turn around close to that whorehouse. So why don't we just wait there? Not a whole lot of people around right now. Seems like business is slow this time of day."

"Right." Haggard got the van moving quickly. It took him several tries to get the truck into the narrow street, unflattering remarks about the vehicle's maneuverability or the lack thereof included. Sweetwater's sly comments didn't help either. Carefully turning the truck around before letting it settle down, he took a few moments to look around, making sure the van's doors were unobstructed and there was nothing in the way of a quick getaway. The demo-expert briefly regretted that he'd given up smoking a few years back. He could have used a cigarette right now. If nothing else it, at least, would have given him something to do while they waited.

"Everybody ready?" He asked, more to keep himself from dozing off than anything else.

"Sure." Sweetwater replied with a shrug, as he opened the van's back door to recall his drone. "Nothing we can do right now except waiting anyway." He carefully picked the tiny drone out of the air and put it back into it's slot on his belt to recharge.

"McCoy, what about you?"

"Sure, I'm ready." She said, holding up the small injector to emphasize her point.

"Remember we don't want him to be out too long..."

"I know, I know." The medic interrupted him. "Look, we went over this in detail at our...our 'hideout'. I don't need to be told the same thing over and over again.. I'm not stupid, all right?"

"That's good." Haggard said dryly, unable to fully keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Just making sure."

"This dosage should knock him out for about thirty minutes." She taped on the injector. "That should do it, right?"

"Fine." The demo-expert reached over to pick up his helmet from the passenger seat, checking the casing briefly he put it on. He closed the visor for a moment to make sure the helmet was properly connected to the suit's power supply. Time seemed to crawl as he kept watching the brothel's entrance. He checked the time again. Close to thirty minutes since their target entered the house.

"Come on, what's taking you so long?" He whispered, tapping the van's small steering wheel with impatience. "Just blow your goddamn load and be done with it."

"Hm?" Sweetwater asked. "What was that Hags?"

"Nothing, nothing. I am just thinking out loud is all." Haggard rubbed his eyes for a moment. Hadn't there been something he'd wanted to ask the tech? He racked his brain repeatedly but he just couldn't remember what it was. _'Jesus George, get your head outta your butt will ya?' _He gave himself a mental ass-kick. _'So you're tired. And? That ain't an excuse to let your brain shut down like that. Wake the fuck up!'_

"That building doesn't have any other exits does it?" He asked as he finally remembered.

"Nope." Sweetwater replied without hesitation. "Couldn't see anything from the air and nothing in the building blueprints either."

"Oh you already checked?"

"Yeah I kinda needed something to do. You know to keep me awake and all."

"Tell me about it." Haggard snorted. "So he has to come out this door, right?"

"Yep, if that little prick ain't planning to dig a tunnel that is." The tech chuckled. "Relax Hags. He won't slip past us."

"I am relaxed!" Haggard snapped a little more fiercely that he'd intended to. "I'm very fucking relaxed okay?"

"Yeah very relaxed you are. Indeed veeeery relaxed."

"Shut up will ya? I just hate sitting on my ass all day."

"He'll come out there soon enough, don't worry." Sweetwater shrugged.

"Hmph. With our luck he's probably gona stay over night." The demo-expert remarked sourly, turning around it his seat.

"Oh come on. He can't be making that much money..."

"Would you two stop it?" McCoy interjected. "If you keep bickering like that, hey may slip past us after all."

Haggard had to bite his tongue to keep himself from shouting at the medic. She, admittedly, had a point so he went back to scanning the surroundings. The door opened several times, causing a small adrenaline rush each time, but unfortunately the desk clerk was not among the men that came out. The demo-expert flinched and reached for his shotgun as the door opened yet again but it was only a prostitute coming out for a smoke. He sighed, reluctantly putting the gun down again as he briefly watched the woman in the mirror.

"What are you looking at, Hags?" Sweetwater just couldn't help but ask, grinning widely.

"Screw you." Came the reply. "And just what are you looking at huh? Thinking about letting your drone fly into that hooker's cleavage?"

"Oh you're just mad that you don't get all the cool toys."

"Actually I prefer to play around with things that go boom than with a glorified marble. Thank you very much."

Sweetwater's only answer to that was a naughty sound and they went silent again but only for a moment.

"Ah shit!" The tech hissed.

"What?" Haggard, who'd just closed his eyes to let them rest for a moment, snapped in annoyance.

"That hooker's coming over here." Sweetwater said, glancing out the back window. "Guess she's looking for more customers."

"That's all we need right now." Haggard groaned as he lowered the window on his side.

"Wait. What do you intend to do?" McCoy's voice was raised in alarm when she noticed he'd grabbed his shotgun. However the prostitute reached the van before he could answer.

"Hey Sweetheart..." She began but froze when she noticed her intended prey was wearing heavy combat armor.

"Don't. You. Move. Sister." Haggard hissed, his voice so ice-cold that a shiver ran down the medic's spine.

"Don't yell, don't shout, don't say anything at all." The demo-expert continued. "If you make some kind of ruckus, if anybody takes notice of us because of you, I'll get out my little friend here..."

He tapped on the shotgun. "...and make him say hello. Do I make myself understood?"

The woman nodded jerkily. She'd put on quite a lot of makeup but even so one could see that her face had lost all color

"Brilliant. Now just go back nice and quiet, have another smoke and..."

"There he is!" Sweetwater exclaimed loudly. "Let's go!"

"Goddamn it!" Haggard snarled as he opened the door, pushing the hooker out of the way.

The desk clerk, who'd just been lighting up a cigarette of his own, gaped in astonishment at the armored soldiers running towards him and reacted too slowly.

"What the..." Was all he managed to blurt out before Haggard and Sweetwater pinned him against the wall.

"What the..." He began again only to be rudely interrupted by the hiss of an injector and a sharp pain in his neck. The lights went out within a few seconds.

The prostitute watched in stunned disbelief as the armored men dragged one of the brothel's regulars away, loading him into the truck. Her eyes followed the van as it drove out of the alley and disappeared. Then she began to scream.

* * *

Director Fisher impatiently rubbed his thin mustache with his index finger as he waited for the deciphering protocol to kick in. For the third time he checked all his precautions against unwanted interruption. From the isolated com-channel, to the proper encryption algorithm, to the locked door. So far everything had been going according to plan, even better in fact. But that cocky special forces trooper threatened to jeopardize everything. What was his name again? Ah yes, Sweetwater. He'd checked the private's file a little while ago, cursing himself because he hadn't done it before the operation started. He could have requested another team to be assigned to the ship. One without a trooper with the reputation of sticking his nose into other people's files. Or Commander Shepard's daughter.

He pushed those thoughts aside. No use crying over spilled milk. With a little luck the situation was already under control.

The desk's holo-projector hummed softly as it finally came online, showing a small image of his senior agent on horizon.

"Jones! At last." He said curtly. "Report!"

The man on the other end of the call raised an eyebrow. No greetings, no small talk, no nothing. Right down to business. He shrugged. Director Fisher wasn't the talkative type.

"Well. " Jones began. "We don't think that either of the two subjects we have in custody know anything. Both of them were interrogated for several hours without results."

"I see." Fisher replied thoughtfully. "Your are of course aware that special forces soldiers receive training on how to handle interrogations."

"Of course, I'm aware of that." The agent said with a frown. "And we're choosing our methods accordingly. Don't you worry about that. Besides we're not done with them yet. We're giving them a few hours to rest and think and then we'll have another go."

"But at this time you think that nobody knows about the data?"

"Correct sir. If Private Sweetwater didn't tell his squad mates anything about it, I think it's pretty safe to say he didn't tell anyone else on the ship."

"Speaking of Sweetwater..." The director said with a hard stare. "Any progress in apprehending him and the other fellow who slipped away?"

"We're working on that." Jones hastily assured his boss. "We tapped into the city's surveillance cams and we got people out there, looking for them. They won't be able to hide forever."

"The same people who let those two get away in the first place hm?" The director remarked pointedly. "That screw-up never should have happened."

"I'm aware of that too, sir." The agent replied forcefully. "But we couldn't hire any professionals within the time frame you'd given us so we had to make due with what we could find in the neighborhood."

"Be that as it may." Fisher said. "I expect you to do your job, professionals or not. I would really hate it if I had to send in another team to clean up your mess. Do you understand me, Jones?"

"Yes sir, perfectly."

"Good. Get to it. Send me a status update in twelve hours. That'll be all."

The director terminated the connection without waiting for an answer and leaned back in his chair, thinking about what to do next. Should he wait until the situation on Horizon was dealt with or continue with his plans regardless? The longer he thought about it the more he became convinced he shouldn't wait any longer. Even if somebody on the ship had access to the data, downloaded from that research lab, it would take him a while to figure out that the whole bullshit about bio-terrorism was just a cover.

No, it was definitely time to go ahead with his plan. The sooner he got off the ship the better. He touched the holographic control panel of his desk, calling the captain. The ship's CO took a few moments to answer.

"Mister Fisher." Captain Heisenberg made little effort to hide his aversion for the director. "How much longer are you planning to have us sit around in this no man's land here?"

Fisher gave the Captain a thin smile. Heisenberg's dislike of 'intelligence types', which he shared with many high ranking alliance officers, was fairly well known and even got him into trouble once or twice. Fisher couldn't have cared less. He wasn't here to make friends after all.

"Don't worry, Captain." He said. "We're done 'sitting around' for now. Take us to Tarec-2-9-b and..." The director raised his hand and continued as Heisenberg opened his mouth to protest. "...prepare for a ground assault. Details will follow later."

The captain's holographic image stared at him in disbelief for a split second. "A ground assault?" He asked apparently uncertain he'd heard right. "A full scale ground assault on little Omega? Are you out of your mind?" The captain exclaimed loudly after Fisher confirmed with a nod. "Horizon was goddamn crazy already but this...Have you and idea what that would..."

"That's enough Captain!" Fisher cut him off equally loudly. "Those are your orders and they're not open for debate. Is that clear?"

The captain's jaw muscles tightened visibly as he clenched his teeth in anger. "Yes Sir." Heisenberg growled. He paused for a second. "But I want those orders in writing, I want a hard-copy or this ship isn't going anywhere."

Fished held up a piece of paper. "Of course, Captain. Already done. Now give me an ETA."

The captain glared at him for a moment before he jumped up and stormed out of the camera's cone of view. Fisher could hear muffled commands in the background as he waited for Heisenberg to return.

"Eight hours to the system, another two or three to sneak in undetected." The Captain barked curtly when he returned.

"Good. I expect your people to be ready for action as soon as we get there."

"Yes, Sir. Will that be all?"

"Almost. I want the prisoner be brought to my cabin once we reach our destination."

Heisenberg's eyebrows raised in astonishment. "I'll see to it." He shrugged. "And I'll come and get that hard-copy now."

"I'll have it brought to you."

"No need, I'd rather pick it up myself.

"Fine, Captain. Now get the ship moving."

The switched off the com-unit and turned around, staring out his cabin's window. He smiled when he felt the ship shudder slightly as it's main engines came online.

"Not much longer now." He whispered.

* * *

That's it for now. Comments, constructive criticism and things like that would be appreciated :)


	15. Chapter 15

There ya go folks.

Sorry, this chapter got delayed a bit. Yeah, I know, I'm a slow-poke. ;)

* * *

The automatic doors leading to Arcturus station's war room opened with a soft hiss as Admiral Jeff 'Joker' Moreau skillfully guided his floating chair through. Although the exercise, he was about to witness, didn't look to be any more interesting than any of the others he'd supervised before, the former helmsman was looking forward to it. If nothing else it would give him a chance to get his mind off things, for the last two days had been highly frustrating.

No matter where he'd looked, trying to find details about the Wake Island's mission or the whereabouts of his best friend's daughter he would hit a brick wall. Whatever the hell was going on the security was the tightest he'd ever seen.

"Admiral on Deck!" An operations chief interrupted his musings.

"Carry on!" Joker said loudly with a dismissive wave of his hand as his eyes scanned the room for the officer in charge.

Perfectly circular, about fifty meters in diameter, with an enormous holo-emitter in the middle and several dozen work stations arranged around it, the war room looked almost the same as its counterpart on the old station that had been destroyed by the reapers as Joker had found out only a few days ago. He shook his head to get rid of the melancholy that threatened to overcome him whenever he thought back to those days.

"Admiral." Joker flinched slightly when Commander Mensah spoke up right behind him.

"Ah, Commander." Joker had his chair turn around slowly. "There you are. Everything ready?"

"Yes sir. The exercise can begin on your command." The dark skinned woman replied and saluted eagerly. A little bit too eagerly Joker noticed.

"Relax, Commander." He said, slowly guiding the chair towards the station used for controlling simulations. Over time he'd learned to spot it when somebody tried to hide nervousness behind a mask of eagerness. "I ain't gonna bite your head off if something goes wrong." He smirked. "Maybe a finger or two but not the head."

The Commander took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Okeydokey then let's get going." Joker said and raised his voice as he used his omni-tool to load up the simulation parameters into the war room computer. "Exercise begins."

"And Commander." He added as the female officer was turning around to go to her position. "Tell your people to relax too."

"Aye Sir."

The former helmsman snickered softly as he noticed the glances of the crew. He was infamous for keeping his subordinates on their toes by building in unexpected twists and jokes into exercises. On one occasion footage from an ancient video game had been added to the tactical data, displayed by the central projector. On another thousands of dots had formed into an erotic image. He hadn't yet decided what he was going to do this time. But, he thought, rubbing his hands, it would have to be something special. He needed some fun.

A few minutes later he'd comfortably settled in behind the control console, watching the crew at work as tracks from an imaginary invasion force appeared on various tactical screens around the room. He watched the crew working, listened to shouted reports and commands as he casually went through the simulation controls, adjusting parameters here and there to observe how the people reacted.

"Admiral!" A little irritated at the sudden interruption Joker took his eyes off the screen, wondering what the fuss was about. The owner of the voice, a short somewhat overweight man he recognized as one of the techs of his personal intelligence team, stormed across the room towards him, hollering loudly.

"Hold it son! Take it easy." The admiral said unable to fully hide his amusement as the man came to a stop in front of him, the face tomato red, huffing and puffing heavily. It was painfully obvious that physical activity usually wasn't high up on the computer wizard's priority list.

"You shouldn't be running around in here like that. Somebody could get hurt." Joker said, trying hard not to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Sir." The tech barely managed to stammer as he tried to catch his breath. "But it gotta show you something."

The former helmsman frowned slightly. "Well, can't it wait? We're in the middle of an exercise here." He said with a wide gesture.

"No, Sir. I consider this urgent."

Joker shrugged as he paused the simulation. "All right. I am waiting."

"Not here, Sir." The tech said, casting a glance at Commander Mensah who'd walked over and was now listening curiously.

Joker's frown deepened as he turned to the female officer. "Tell your people to take a break Commander. We'll continue when I am back." He said before facing the tech again.

"Okay. Lead on." He said with a nod. "But this had better be important."

"It is, Sir"

A lot of heads came up, eyes following the Admiral as he followed the tech. Some of the people in the room wondered if this was one of the Admiral's infamous pranks.

"Well...what's your name again?" Joker asked, trying in vain to remember the tech's name as they entered an elevator.

"Sensor analyst second grade Johnson, Sir"

"Well sensor analyst second grade." Joker said raising an eyebrow as the other man selected the intended destination on the haptic interface "What's all this about?"

Johnson uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "One of our spy drones in the terminus systems picked up something a few minutes ago."

"Where in the terminus systems?" The admiral demanded. "And what did it pick up? Come on, Mister spit it out."

"We're almost there, Sir." The younger man said as he could feel the elevator slow down. "Please bear with me for a bit longer 'cause I'm not sure you'd believe me if I just told you."

Joker scratched his head as he steered his floating chair out the elevator, following the sensor analyst. For a moment he wondered if one of the two other Admirals, currently stationed on Arcturus, was trying to play a trick on him. He dismissed that thought quickly however. Neither of them were known as pranksters. But what the hell else could this be about? Lost in thought the former helmsman almost bumped into Johnson when he stopped in front of a door and activated a security scan.

"Is this about the Wake Island?" Joker asked as the door slid open after the scan was a completed.

"Possibly" The younger man replied as he lead the Admiral inside a dimly lit room, filled with computer consoles and specialized hardware. The other man in the room jumped to his feet and saluted.

"What do you mean, possibly?" Joker demanded as he signaled the other tech to carry on with a wave of his hand. "Could I get a straight answer please?"

"Right here, Sir." Johnson said as a large screen came to life, displaying a barren moon in front of a ringed gas giant.

"This is from our Spy drone in the Tarec system, Sir." The tech reached out and enlarged a specific section of the image with a simple gesture. Now one could clearly see several large bio-domes, interconnected by metal tubes, built into one of the moon's craters.

"Little Omega." Joker said with a shrug as he recognized the infamous port. "What about it?"

"Well, Sir. To minimize energy consumption and risk of detection our drones are usually only set to take one high-def picture per hour and record communication. Then compress everything into a data packet and send it back to us in a burst..."

"I know how spy drones work, Johnson!" Joker snapped, his patience running low. "Get to the point mister!"

"Sorry Sir." The tech blushed slightly as he pointed at the screen. "This is the image we got an hour and a half ago. And this..." The picture changed. "...is thirty minutes old."

Joker could feel his mouth go dry as he gaped at the screen in disbelief. "What on Earth..." Was all he managed to whisper for a few moments. The second image showed a huge crater where the colony had been. He turned back to the tech. "Are you certain this is the same section of that moon? I mean, this must be a mistake. This..." His voice trailed off as Johnson shook his head.

"No, Sir this isn't a mistake. We checked and double checked several times before I came to get you." The tech said with a nod towards his colleague.

Joker stared at the screen for a few more moments. "Any idea what did this?"

The techs briefly exchanged glances then Johnson took a deep breath. "We have a theory, Sir."

* * *

_Two hours earlier._

A couple of dozen light-years away somebody else was racking his brain, trying to come up with a theory of his own. Michael Mauser sat on his cell's small bed scratching his head helplessly. With nothing to do but sit around for two days, his mind had run rampant trying to find a possible explanation for his captivity. That he was on an alliance ship was obvious enough, but what did they want from him? The company he worked for produced a wide variety of goods. Skycars, cleaning robots, medicine, ready-to-eat meals and even low-level omni-tools. But everything was intended for civilian use, of little or no military value and he couldn't imagine that any of the research that fell into his area of responsibility was of much interest to the alliance.

What else could it be? The CEO of McKenzie Enterprises had political ambitions and was an outspoken critic of the alliance but Mauser couldn't believe that this was more than a minor nuisance to the alliance government. Although Horizon was the most successful independent human colony it just wasn't large enough to play a role in interstellar politics. And even if it was, why would they come after him? He had no intention to get into politics himself, nor had he ever said anything against the alliance in public.

At least he'd been treated properly so far but that didn't make him feel any better. At times he'd felt outraged that he'd been basically kidnapped. Sometimes he felt very lonely and worried sick about his wife hoping that she was all right. He briefly thought back to the interrogation he'd had to endure when he'd been brought on board. It had been superficial, to say the least, and hadn't provided him with any clues as to what this could be about either.

He sighed and leaned against the wall in his back, resting his eyes for a moment. He could try as hard as he wanted, he was no closer to an explanation than he had been when the alliance soldiers had shoved him into this cell several days ago. _'Nothing to do but wait for the next meal.'_ He thought just as, to his surprise, the cell doors opened, revealing two armored marines.

"Director Fisher wants to see you." One of them said coolly. "Come with us, please."

Mauser was only too happy to comply as the marines took hold of him between them and guided him through the ship. "What is he the director of?" He inquired after a while.

"Alliance Intelligence." Was the curt answer.

This oddly excited Mauser as he followed the marines. Not that he was looking forward to being questioned by the director of AI but with a little luck he would finally learn what this whole business was all about and at this point anything was better than to sit around, doing nothing. The short trip ended in front of a door with a tall guard standing in front of it.

Without any further word he was shoved through the door finding himself in a fairly large, dimly lit cabin. He looked around while his eyes adjusted, casting a weary glance at the guard that had followed him into the room. A mean looking bastard and a full head taller than he was. The cabin seemed rather empty to him. There was a large desk, a few chairs, a display case containing model starships and a few pictures on the wall. Mauser almost didn't notice the dark haired man, standing beside a small window on the opposite wall.

The director seemed to be completely oblivious to his entry as he gazed into the empty space beyond the window. He didn't move, made no sound whatsoever and the only indication he was even alive was the slight heaving of his chest.

"Michael Mauser, I assume?" Fisher said, still staring out the window.

"I am." Mauser answered, not knowing what else to say. He expected the director to turn around and get going with whatever he'd have him brought here for, but Fisher continued to stare out the window. Mauser felt a little foolish as he waited for the director to make a move.

"What do you want from me?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Why, information of course." Fisher finally turned around with a sardonic smile.

"Information about what? Is this about my company's research or...?"

The director interrupted him with a shake of his head as he walked over to his desk and activated a big holo-screen.

"Oh please,why would I be interested in anything your company does hm?" He played around with the screen's control for a moment until it displayed the image of a barren moon. Mauser could feel his mouth go dry when he recognized it.

"Ah, that got your attention hm?" Fisher said, looking at him with a thin, humorless smile.

Mauser didn't react, instead he examined the three dimensional projection a little closer to make certain it really was the infamous place he'd called home for most of his youth. The main docking bay had been substantially enlarged and two or three small bio-domes had been added but everything else looked just as he remembered it. Tarec 2-9-b. Little Omega as it was known to some. Others called it a 'wretched hive of scum and villainy'. It was one of the most important trans-shipment centers for certain drugs and other goods considered 'hot' even in the Terminus Systems.

Could it really be? Was this whole affair about his smuggling days? His mind refused to accept this as a possibility. He had been the captain of a small, fast ship twenty years ago and had often played cat-and-mouse with alliance border patrols. But the idea that they would send a warship into the terminus systems because of some petty crime he'd committed back then sounded more than a little ludicrous to him and his knowledge of the 'business' was outdated to say the least. Or could it be about...? No. No way! Nobody had known about THAT. Not even his own crew.

"Is this about my time as a smuggler? Did the alliance..."

"No it isn't. As a matter of fact it isn't about you at all, not directly anyway." Fisher fixated the other man with a hard look. "Although as a former drug runner you kinda had something coming."

"Christ! That was twenty years ago!." Mauser protested loudly. "And I was only a small fish back then okay? I didn't have the luxury to call the shots."

Fisher chuckled softly. "You know I'd almost believe that, but with your parentage, I think it's pretty safe to say that you actually did have that luxury."

Mauser felt as it his head had just been dipped into ice cold water as he stared at the director in shock.

"Wha...My parentage?" His old, long forgotten smuggler instinct awakened, telling him to try and bluff his way out of this but somehow he knew it was going to be useless.

"Yep your parentage. Your father to be precise."

"But my father is..."

"...Not dead no, no." Fisher flashed a feral grin. "Although anybody, trying to look into you past would think so. But of course anyone doing that would look into the past of Michael Mauser wouldn't he?"

Mauser opened and closed his mouth like a beached fish, unable to think of something he could say.

"Clancy was very thorough when he got you your new identity. Oh, very thorough indeed." The director continued conversationally. "Must have cost a fortune. Ol' Moses' services aren't cheap. Way too expensive for a 'small fish' that's for sure. I figure your old man payed for it. Didn't want anybody to know he had a son I bet. Probably thought somebody could use it against him, right? Did he get you into McKenzie Enterprises as well? To get his drug money laundered more easily?"

"Something like that." Mauser admitted, his head hung low as he realized any further denying it was futile. That Fisher guy even knew the nick-name of the reclusive master forger. "But I put this behind me long ago! Yeah he used his money to get me into the company but I worked my way up the ranks on my own and I cut ties with him after a few years. I haven't heard from him since. That's the truth!"

"I'm sure it is." Fisher shrugged indifferently. "The old boy...what was he called back then again? Crazy Ivan? Anyway he has made himself scarce lately, probably thinking about retiring. But I'm not interested in his recent operations or anything like that."

"What are you interested in then? Why don't you just tell me the reason you had me kidnapped and brought here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Fisher asked, raising his eyebrows quizzically. "You're here because there are very few people outside his hmm...'organization' that know the location of his secret hideout."

"But I...I don't know where it is." The former smuggler said quickly.

"O, I hope you do know." He said with a vague gesture towards the holographic image. "You see, I've been looking for your old man for almost two decades now and at this point I am willing to do pretty much anything to finally find him. Ol' Ivan and I have a score to settle."

"So." Fisher continued after a brief pause. "If you can't tell me what I need to know, well, little omega was your father's favorite port all these years and I have reason to believe that the coordinates of his hideout are stored somewhere in the colony's central computer. Unfortunately none of my agents ever managed to get access to it. Remarkably well organized, the low-life down there. However, as we speak, two full companies of Marines are preparing for an assault to get me access by any means necessary."

There was a brief silence as the former smuggler tried to digest what he'd just been told.

"You're willing to risk hundreds of lives just because you have unfinished business with my father?" Mauser eventually asked in disbelief. "Are you insane?"

"I believe I already said I was willing to do anything it took, didn't I?" Fisher said casually. "So what will it be, mister? Are you going to tell me or do we have to risk a bloodbath? And don't even try to pretend that you don't care about the people down there anymore. During the last couple of years, at least, you've transferred a substantial amount of credits to a certain woman every month. An old flame of yours I'd wager. Your wife knows about this?"

"None of your damn business!" Mauser hissed angrily.

"You're right, it really isn't" The director smiled. "But I am waiting for your decision. Well?"

"Wait a moment." The former smuggler said, instead of giving an answer, attempting to play for time as he desperately tried to find a way out of this mess. The last time they'd talked hadn't exactly ended well and for all he cared the old crook could go to hell. But he still was his father and to just rat him out to alliance intelligence... "Are you telling me the alliance parliament approved of an attack on Little Omega just because you have a score to settle with my father?"

"Let's just say I got a green light for operating in the terminus systems. It's amazing what politicians are willing to approve when they think their own asses may be in danger."

"What? What do you mean...?"

"Ta-ta-ta-ta." Fisher slowly shook his head. "No more playin' for time, mister. And just so you know: If I send the marines down there and they don't find what I am looking for, I'll have to make certain that you really don't know anything. And believe me, that is going to be a lot less pleasant than our little chat. So what will it be?"

He waited for a few moments, his eyes narrowing to slits as he eyed the other man.

"All right, fine." He said activating the intercom. "Captain, the operation is a..."

"Wait!" Mauser exclaimed loudly.

"Hold on."

"There is a hidden mass relay deep inside the lagoon nebula." Mauser said, talking as quickly as he could to get the information off his chest before the director could change his mind. "I have no idea how my father's men found it but apparently it was only lightly damaged and they managed to get it working. I've never been there myself but I'm told it leads to an unknown cluster. The hideout is supposed to be on a garden world in the system closest to the cluster's relay."

"You got the coordinates of the relay?"

"Yeah, I..."

"Here. Punch them in here." Fisher said, giving the other man a data pad.

He gave the numbers a brief look after he got it back. "Just off the top of your head?" He asked suspiciously raising an eyebrow. "These had better be real 'cause if you try to jerk me around..."

"They ARE real!" Mauser exclaimed heatedly. "I learned them by heart." He made a helpless gesture. "You know, in case I needed to disappear myself some day."

The director smirked as he called the CIC again. "Captain stand down. The operation is canceled. Hold the position and wait for further orders."

* * *

In the Wake Island's CIC, Captain Heisenberg leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. A big load had just been taken off his mind.

"Okay people, you heard it. The apocalypse has been postponed for now. Go back to condition three, weapon systems to stand-by, get the Marines back to their quarters and...oh whatever! You people know what to do right? You're highly trained alliance sailors are you not?"

Soft chuckling answered him as the crew got to work. His stomach's soft rumbling reminded him that he hadn't eaten in more than ten hours. As he looked around the CIC he figured he could afford a little break and go and get a sandwich. He'd just walked through the door when the ship's weapons officer, Lieutenant Adams, called him back.

"Captain we have a problem."

"A problem? What kind?"

"The weapon systems isn't shutting down, Sir." The chief, working at the master console replied in the Lieutenant's stead. "I tried everything I could think of but none of my commands are accepted. It's like the whole system is frozen."

"What the..." The Captain muttered softly. "Adams? Any ideas?"

"Never seen anything like this before, Captain." The weapons officer replied with a helpless look on his face. "So far the systems have been running very well, but this...This is by far the most serious glitch I've ever heard of."

"Suggestions?"

"I've already sent a tech down to the main computer core to check the hardware and..."

"Captain!"

* * *

"Was that all?" Mauser asked flatly. "If you don't mind I'd like to go back to my cell now."

"Not so fast." Director Fisher replied with a pleasant smile as he used a holographic keyboard to input a few commands into the computer. "What kind of a host would I be if I let my guest go before the fireworks?"

Mauser gaped at him for a heartbeat. "Excuse me?"

"You'll see in a minute."

* * *

"The auto-loader of tube number three just came online." The chief said quickly, his voice getting louder as he continued his report. "It's loading a hellfire into the launcher...o god! Captain! The warheads show armed!"

"How the hell is that possible?" Heisenberg demanded. Normally nuclear warheads could only be armed by the Captain, the XO and the Weapons officer inputting their personal codes simultaneously.

"Never mind!" He shouted before anybody could answer. "Lieutenant! Shut down the weapons system! I don't care how you do it! Pull the goddamn circuit breakers if you have to just get it disabled! Now!"

"Aye, aye."

Heisenberg barely noticed the weapons officer run off as he called the bridge. Helm this is the Captain! Set course..."

"It's too late." The chief stated soberly. The Wake Island shuddered very slightly as the hellfire torpedo was ejected from the tube by a mass accelerator. A few seconds later the missiles engine came online and propelled it away from the warship, accelerating rapidly.

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mauser demanded loudly as the holographic projection showed a small, red dot moving towards the moon's bio-domes. "I told you all I know! I...I..."

"Little Omega is where it all started." The director answered calmly. "I'm not going to leave it standing."

"You son of a bitch!" The former smuggler tried to leap over the desk at the other man's throat but a biotic field stopped him half way. He growled angrily as he glanced over to the guard on his right. He'd completely forgotten about the scary looking guy.

"Tsk, tsk." The director shook his head. "You should learn to control yourself a little better. Now are you going to behave or do I have to tell mister Joshua over there..." He nodded towards the guard. "...to knock you out."

"You son of a bitch." Mauser spat out again.

"Yeah, you said that already. Well?"

"Okay, okay!" The former smuggler coughed. The biotic field made it difficult to breathe and he took a deep breath when the guard released him.

"You're pretty intense." Fisher said looking at the projection for a moment before turning back to Mauser. "She's more than an old flame then, I guess."

"My son is down there you asshole!" The former smuggler snarled through clenched teeth.

"Ah, so that's what the credits were for." The director said, his voice almost unnaturally clam. "Don't worry. It'll be quick. Just a flash, a millisecond of brilliant light, and everybody down there is vaporized."

A biotic field immobilized Mauser again when he roared angrily. 'Mister Joshua' apparently wasn't taking any chances.

"Your old man and his cronies on the other hand, well, they won't be so lucky."

* * *

Following the launch of the torpedo there were a few moments of eerie silence in the Wake Island's CIC, as everybody in the room stared at the main screen.

"It's heading directly for the colony, Captain." The chief reported neutrally.

"Chief, What's the payload of a hellfire?" Captain Heisenberg asked , trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He of course knew the answer already but for some reason he felt compelled to ask anyway. Maybe he remembered it wrong and it wasn't as bad as he thought?

"Sir, a hellfire carries twelve ship-killer warheads. A dark energy charge combined with a high-yield fusion bomb."

"That's gonna blow that rock in half." Somebody to the Captains right muttered softly.

"The access to the missile's self destruct is part of the weapons system too, right?" The Captain asked another question to which he already knew the answer.

"Yes, Sir. It tried to access the protocol already. No go."

"Any idea how many people are down there?"

"There are no precise numbers available, Captain. According to our data-base, the best estimate is fifteen to twenty-thousand people."

* * *

The first mate of a light freighter, approaching Little Omega's control zone, was first to see the torpedo.

"Hey boss, take a look at this." He waved the Captain over and pointed at the fast moving object on his screen. "What do think this is?"

"No idea. Is it close enough for a visual?"

"S'pose so."

The picture that appeared on the screen was blurry to say the least.

"Can't you get that any sharper?"

"Nah the system has been fucked up for a while now, ain't had time to repair it."

"Could be some sort of missile. Call approach control an' ask them what's goin' on."

* * *

The hellfire closed the distance to its target rapidly. Fifteen seconds before impact the casing got blown away by explosive bolts, releasing the warheads within. Their small propulsion systems fired briefly, putting each of them on course to their preset target. Proximity fuses detonated the first stage of each warhead just before impact: A directed dark energy blast designed to break open heavy ship armor. A fraction of a second later the fusion charges exploded.

* * *

"Holy shit!" The freighter Captain turned his head away and blinked rapidly. He'd looked directly into the explosion and although they were still several thousand kilometers away it had been bright enough that, for a moment, he feared he'd lost his sight.

"Get us outta here! Quickly!"

* * *

"You're insane." Mauser croaked hoarsely, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He'd barely known his son, had only met him a few times and now he was gone. "You're completely out of your mind."

"Yeah I guess, in a way I am." Fisher said indifferently.

"Why do you this? What the hell has my father done to you that you do this?"

"You're asking why?" It was as if somebody removed a mask from the director's face. For a tiny moment he lost his self-control. And that moment scared Mauser more than anything else he'd seen on this day. Never before had he seen such burning, all consuming hatred in somebody eyes.

"WHY?" Fisher screamed, his face was flushed, his lower lip trembled and he panted as if he'd just run a marathon.

The storm went by quickly however and the mask slid back in its place. When he spoke again the director's voice was as calm and controlled as before.

"He destroyed my family." He said, staring out the window. "It's a long story and we have to get moving. I'm afraid we have overstayed our welcome on this ship. For now just this: Back when you were a smuggler, my sister and I were bored upper class teenagers on earth. Spoiled brats if I'm totally honest, taking our father's yacht out for a spin. Unfortunately we had the rotten luck to run into your old man. But I'll have to save the rest of this bedtime story for later. We have to go."

* * *

After the destruction of Little Omega, Captain Heisenberg sat down in his chair and buried his head in his hands for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts. When he stood up again there was a look of grim determination on his face.

"Mister Mitchel." He called the helmsman over the intercom. "Take us out ten light-years and hold, I don't care which direction just nowhere near any inhabited systems, understood?"

"Aye, aye C..." The flight lieutenant's reply stopped mid word.

Across the room a tech's head came up. "Captain the intercom just went offline."

"O for crying out loud." He walked over to his asari XO. "Commander."

"Yes Captain?"

"Take some Marines, go down to Fisher's cabin and get him up here."

"Sir?"

"No way those are random malfunctions. There's just no way a glitch this serious would have gone unnoticed during the trial runs. And then there's the armed warheads. I don't know how but somebody pulled the trigger on this one."

"The director?"

"Who else? Who ordered us out here?"

"But why? Why would anyone just...wipe out a colony like that."

"I haven't the faintest idea. Now go. And switch your omni-tool to independent mode."

After the XO had left, Heisenberg jogged to the bridge to make sure the helmsman had understood his orders correctly. Then he tried to call several officers to the CIC but only his chief engineer had already noticed that the comm system was down and set his omni-tool accordingly. He sent several crewmen out to get the others.

Commander T'Cel called a few minutes later. "Captain, we just went into the director's cabin. He's gone. He's nowhere to be found, his bodyguard and the prisoner too."

* * *

Joker listened for several minutes as the techs explained. "All right, How many people know about this?" He asked, pointing at the screen, after they'd finished.

"Just the three of us, Sir."

"Good." Joker said, rubbing his gray beard as he thought about how to proceed. "Now listen to me very carefully: No word of this is to go beyond these bulkheads is that clear?"

Both of them nodded but the Admiral wasn't finished. "No word of this to anybody. Not to the other techs, not to your girl-friends, boy-friend, wives, the fleet admiral or the alliance parliament. And neither to God nor the Devil in case they should drop by and ask. Do you get me?"

"Yes Sir!" Both of them replied simultaneously.

"Good 'cause if word of this gets out, well, I'll send the two of you to the most unpleasant post I can find. Understood?"

"Yes Sir."

"Bloody marvelous!" Joker snapped sarcastically then pulled himself together. As bad as the last few days had been, it'd just gotten much worse. But those two techs weren't to blame for that. After all they'd just been doing what they were supposed to.

"Okay, listen up." He said, considerably calmer, as he waved them closer. "Johnson, you put that drone into stand-by mode right now. I don't want it to send any more data until further notice and restrict access to the highest security clearance only."

"Aye Sir, right away."

Joker turned towards the other tech. "You! What's your name?"

"Sensor analyst first class Ning, Sir."

"Ning, go get three OSDs and copy the data from the last two transmission on each of them. Then delete all local data. There is to be no trace of this left in the system, understood?"

"Aye aye, Sir!" The former helmsman absently watched Ning hurry off as he contemplated his next move. He activated his omni-tool, switching it into private mode. All incoming audio transmission would now get relayed directly to the tiny implants in his ears.

First he called Commander Mensah and told her that the exercise was canceled and that she should resume normal operations until further notice. Next he called his personal assistant.

"Kelly. Get me the Commander-in-Chief. I need to speak to him at once."

Joker impatiently moved his chair around the small room, turning here and there as he waited for a response.

"Oh yes this is important!" He exclaimed heatedly when he finally got one. But it was only CINC's assistant. "This is pretty damn important! And...I don't give a damn what he's doing right now! Tell him to get on the horn pronto!"

"Hey Alex." He said when heard fleet admirals voice at last. "Listen...I'm fine thank you... No, this is not a joke for crying out loud! Sometimes even I am serious!"

"Okay listen. One of my intelligence teams picked up something...disturbing to say the least. We need to meet in person as soon as possible." Joker listened for a few moments. When he spoke again his voice was considerably louder. "No, I don't mean ASAP as in: 'As-soon-as-I-have-time'! I mean the 'As-soon-as-I-can-get-to-Arcturus-from-where-I-am!' ASAP! You understand?"

The former helmsman ran his right hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck.

"No can do. We need to meet some place secure all right? Now if you can think of a better place than Arcturus we can meet there if you absolutely want. Well?"

Joker waited for a few moments. "Arcturus it is then. So hop on the next courier ship you can..."

He stopped mid-sentence and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Goddamn it Alex! If you value your career you'll get your hump over here immediately!" Joker exclaimed irritably, just barely able to restrain himself from risking a broken hand by pounding on the desk in front of him.

"Yes I know you're my superior, thank you very much...Look I'm not threatening your career for Christ's sake, but what I gotta show ya very well might! Call it a hunch but it could very well be that your intelligence pal is making a mess...You know perfectly well, who I'm talking about, damn it!"

Joker had his chair spin around as he listened to the fleet admiral's response.

"Yeah I'll come and pick you up once you get here, just give me a heads up before you dock. Okay see ya in a few hours then."

Joker switched off his omni-tool and briefly scratched the itching tip of his nose. "Well, that got ol' Alexei's attention." He muttered softly.

"Sir?"

"Hm? Oh nothing, I was just thinking out loud."

The Admiral, stifled a yawn, a reminder that he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the last couple of days. Maybe he'd take a quick nap while he was waiting for CINC to arrive, he mused, but right now there was still a lot to do.

"You done, Johnson?" He asked.

"Almost, Sir. I need your authorization finalize the access restriction."

"Fine." Joker linked his omni-tool to the console, directly inputting his personal security ID and clearance into the computer. "There you go. Is that it?"

"Yes, Sir. Access to this drone is now restricted to the highest security clearance only."

"Awesome" Joker said, the sarcasm creeping back into his voice as he turned his head to check what Ning was doing. All those 'Yes Sirs' and 'Aye Sirs' tended to get on his nerves at times like these. He was a little surprised to find the tech patiently waiting next to him.

"There you go, Sir." He said, handing him three OSDs.

"Local data deleted?"

"Yes Sir. It's all gone."

"Good, good." Joker said as he pocketed the OSDs and headed to the exit. "Good job, both of you."

"Thank you, Sir."

"But remember." He added before he steered his chair through the door. "No word of this to anyone. If somebody asks why the access to the Tarec drone is restricted all of a sudden or what happened to the data from it you send them my way."

"Aye aye, Sir."

"Bloody good, Carry on."

Joker went back to his office as quickly as his chair and the station's elevators would allow. One of the OSDs he put into his personal safe. The other two he locked in sealed boxes and had couriers pick them up. One of them he sent to Shepard's home on Virmire, the other to the Citadel, the human councilor's office. Included in each package was a small note to get in touch with him as soon as possible.

After everything was done he checked the time on the old fashioned mechanical clock on his desk. It would be at least another two hours before the fleet admiral arrived. _'__Ah what the hell'_ He thought and called his assistant telling her he didn't want to be disturbed during the next hour.

Setting the clock's alarm to wake him in an hour he leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the desk and took a well deserved nap.


	16. Chapter 16

As quietly as he possibly could, Marcus Shepard opened the door of his home and stepped inside. The house had an old fashioned manual door instead of an automatic one, for which the retired Spectre was grateful. While new automatic doors were very quiet, they often became quite noisy after a few years.

_'So far so good.'_ The aging human thought as he looked around. _'With a little luck I should be able to get my gear and leave before anyone notices.'_

He was about half way through the room, when he heard footsteps. Distracted for a moment he bumped into one of the chairs that were draped around a holo-cube in the middle.

The footsteps stopped. "Dad, is that you?" Hannah's voice came from upstairs.

Shepard sighed and sat down in the chair he'd just bumped into. _'Damn it! That girl has eyes and ears like an eagle.'_ He thought.

Aloud he said: "Yeah, it's me."

"I'll be right down."

He could hear her jogging towards the stairs as he tried to think of something that would make her stay away.

"Oh don't bother. I just..." Suddenly he heard something rattle upstairs followed by Hannah complaining loudly about her sister.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The young asari replied as she came down the spiral staircase, tapping off the dust from the simple tracksuit she wore. "I tripped over a box filled with Rhea's old stuff. Enough for an average orphanage. Seriously, how many clothes does one asari need?"

The former Spectre smiled as he embraced his youngest daughter, kissing her gently on the cheek.

"Speaking of Rhea. Where is the rest of our merry band?"

Hannah giggled at that. "Mum had to go and check out a problem at a company lab but she said she would be back soon. And Rhea got a job off world, a photo- or vid-shoot or whatever."

"Really? Where?"

"I don't know." Hannah shrugged, screwing up her nose derogatorily. "Since when do I care about her modeling bullshit?"

Shepard snickered softly. For the most part his two youngest daughters got along just fine. But Rhea's 'obsession' with clothes and makeup was one thing they frequently clashed over. Hannah's enthusiasm for military aviation was another.

"So, what happened to sis?" The young asari asked. "Is she okay?"

Shepard got serious instantly. "Yes, she's okay. Or at least she was a couple of days ago."

"What happened? Where is she?"

The former Spectre bit his lower lip for a second. He was tempted to tell Hannah some bogus story. The less she knew about the whole, vile, business Cyra had stumbled into, the better he'd feel. But to lie to Hannah when she was obviously worried about her eldest sibling? No, he just couldn't do that.

"She's on Horizon." He said. "I don't know what exactly happened but I'm planning to find out. After I got her out of there that is."

* * *

Cyra found herself in a very uncomfortable position when she regained consciousness. Her hands bound behind her back, her neck stiff and her wounded shoulder hurting she lay on something that only very generous people would have described as a bed. For a split second she didn't remember where she was and what she was doing here. Unfortunately her memory came back as she sat up, gritting her teeth when she thought back to the interrogation. Whatever they'd done to her, it had been by far the most painful thing she'd had to endure in her life and she couldn't fully suppress a shudder when she thought about the prospect of having to go through it again. Looking around she stood up, briefly tilting her head up and down, left and right, trying to reduce the stiffness of her neck.

The look of the room she was in didn't do much to lift the young asari's spirits. The walls painted in a light shade of gray, about three meters wide and four long with a toilet beside the 'bed', it looked pretty much exactly like she'd imagined a prison cell. There were no windows except a small, square opening in the room's metal door. She briefly peeked through but all she could see was an empty hallway. She was thirsty and thought about shouting out loud to make someone come by but quickly decided against it. She was in no hurry to get back onto that horrific chair in the interrogation room. Or whatever else they had planned for her. The door felt solid and sturdy when she tested it with her healthy shoulder and she quickly came to the conclusion that there was no way out of here at this time. She could feel the weight of a collar, designed to disable biotic abilities, around her neck so that wasn't an option either.

As Cyra stepped away from the door and sat back down on the hard mattress she wondered what had happened to her people. From the questions her tormentors had asked she could at least tell, Haggard, Sweetwater and McCoy hadn't been captured yet. What about Marlowe? He had been in the hotel with her. Had he been captured? Was he even alive?

Thinking about her situation, the asari maiden swallowed hard, struggling against the lump in her throat as a feeling of despair threatened to overwhelm her. She had no illusions what would happen once the interrogators decided they didn't need her anymore. She tried to think of something she could do but came up empty. What was she supposed to do with her hands bound behind her back and her biotics disabled? Here she was, not even two thirds of a century old, and she was supposed to die already? A single tear ran down her cheek when she began to cry.

NO! The young asari's soft sobbing was replaced by a throaty growl as she pulled herself together. What the hell was she doing? She was a Shepard! How many times had her parents cheated death? They had always found a way so why shouldn't she? And even if she didn't. Did she really want to go down as a picture of misery? Was she just going to roll over and die? No – fucking – way!

Cyra stood up and stretched, straightening her back. She took a deep breath as her confidence returned. If there was a way out of this she would find it. And then she would get her people off this damned planet! And if things went sideways and she was to going die she was determined to go down with flying colors. The young asari glared at the door, her face a grim mask. Whoever opened that cell had better be cautious.

* * *

"Oh man, Sweets!" Haggard complained in a low voice. "You just had to have us go through this shit-hole didn't ya?"

"'Us' being the keyword here." The tech replied. "I don't like it down here anymore than you do but the sewers are the quickest and safest way to approach those assholes' hideout. You don't want them to see us coming do you?"

"Of course not." Haggard said. "But come on! Surely we would have been able to sneak in without having to go underground."

"Certainly. But it would have taken us a lot longer if I had to check for surveillance equipment all the way in."

"You don't really think they got their HQ wired with a high tech security system do ya?" The demo-expert asked incredulously. "Those guys are just ordinary street thugs for all we know, not some secret agency."

"They made themselves a home in an abandoned police station, Hags." Sweetwater reminded his friend. "Those usually have a pretty decent security system. Besides, I don't know about you but I'd rather not take any chances. After all we have no idea what they'd do to Marlowe and the LT if they'd get wind that we're coming."

"Okay, okay. You're right damn it." Haggard admitted sourly. "It's just...The stench down here is goddamn atrocious."

"Why don't you just put on your mask?"

"Because I am conserving suit energy for when it matters. You know, in case we get shot at or something like that."

"Well, call me a wimp, but I'd rather take a bullet than being gassed down here." Sweetwater pointed out with a grin. He'd put on his own mask right after they'd entered the sewers. "It's not like these things are using up a lot of juice anyway."

"Hmm." Haggard thought about this for a second, then reached for his mask."Yeah, when you put it this way..."

"Much better." He sighed as he put it on and took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the smug comment Sweetwater made behind him.

The demo-expert checked the time as he slowly and carefully walked through the dirty, ankle deep water. He was glad that, at least, he didn't have to worry about loosing his bearings down here. His hard-suit computer displayed a fairly detailed map of the sewers in his head-up display. A thin, red line showed the way he needed to go and small, green dots showed him where Sweetwater and McCoy were.

The desk clerk hadn't given them too much trouble. It hat only taken a bloody nose and a few bruises for him to spill his guts. Deciding their course of action had been a much bigger problem. Sweetwater had done some quick research on the building where Shepard and Marlowe were supposed to be held captive. The tech would have preferred to do some additional research and scouting, claiming they should have at least some semblance of a plan before risking a rescue attempt. Haggard on the other hand had been in favor of going as soon as possible and improvise as they went. He'd made the point that they shouldn't waste any time when they had no idea what was being done to their squad mates. Furthermore, and that had been his primary argument, the longer they waited the bigger the risk that Shepard and Marlowe were taken someplace else. Much to the demo-expert's surprise, McCoy had taken his side in the ensuing discussion. Had taken his side vigorously enough that Sweetwater had eventually given up.

Haggard briefly glanced at the green dot representing the medic. He didn't quite know what to make of the young woman. Even after several days, being stuck together on this planet, he knew next to nothing about her. She usually was very quiet and kept to herself, changing topic whenever somebody asked about her past. It was fairly obvious that she had joined the alliance to get away from something. But what? The medic had an air of education and sophistication about her, rarely found among the marines' enlisted men and women. What could a girl like her be running away from?

He forced his mind back to the problems at hand. No use to think about that now. He checked the map again. Then he switched on his shotgun and made it ready to fire. They were getting close. Less than a hundred meters to go.

* * *

It had been a long time since Shepard had put on armor and he walked around the bedroom a bit, trying to get used to the feeling again. This particular suit of armor he'd only worn once before. It had been a gift from the council and looked very similar to the one he'd used when fighting against the reapers. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment.

_'You looked somewhat better back then, old boy.'_ He thought._ 'Goddamn it! And there I was, hoping I'd never have to wear armor again.'_

He didn't move right away when he heard the doorbell. Maybe whoever was at the door would go away on his own. He really wasn't in the mood for visitors, or worse, at the moment. The doorbell rang again and Shepard got moving with a groan. Hannah got to the door first however.

"Dad, a courier just delivered a package for you." She shouted a moment later. "It's from uncle Joker."

Shepard's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What's in it?" He asked as he walked down the stairs.

There was some rustling below as the young asari tore open the package, waving a small metal lock-box and a piece of paper in his direction after she was finished.

"What the heck is that?" He wondered aloud as his daughter handed over the box. A small touchscreen on one side lit up after he'd found and pressed a small button.

"Here's a note." Hannah piped up, poking her father in the shoulder. "It says you should call him on a secure line as soon as possible."

The former Spectre took a quick look a the piece of paper his daughter held up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He'd rather not waste anymore time with Cyra stranded on Horizon but if Joker went through the trouble of sending a courier to Virmire it had to be important.

"Oh fine." He muttered, shaking the box as he walked to his study.

Once again Shepard was grateful the council had chosen to permanently grant him all the rights of a Spectre even though he'd been inactive since the end of the war. Despite all the advances in technology in the last five decades, setting up a real time connection to the other end of the galaxy could still take the better part of an hour outside of military or diplomatic channels. Thanks to his privileged access, Joker's face appeared on the screen in just a few seconds.

"Hey Shep." The admiral said suppressing a yawn. "How are you doing?"

"Hello, Joker." Shepard hesitated a tiny moment staring at his old friend's image on the screen. The uniform a mess, his face gaunt and the eyes bloodshot, Joker looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in a week. "You look like you could use a vacation."

"Ain't that right." The former helmsman muttered with a grimace. "Anyway, I see you're all dressed up. On your way to Horizon I assume?"

Shepard stared at his old friend in disbelief for a second.

"You know about Horizon?" He inquired, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "When I visited you the other day you claimed you were getting stonewalled by the fleet Admiral."

"That's 'cause I was back then." The Admiral replied rubbing his eyes. "But, well, then something happened."

"Okay fine. Look Joker I am in a bit of a hurry right now, so let's not beat about the bush okay?" The former Spectre said holding up the lock-box. "What's this?"

"Ah you got it already. Finally something that goes right." Joker said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair. "I gotta show you something but first...Are you alone?"

"Excuse me?" Shepard was taken slightly aback by this question.

"Are you alone in the room?"

To his surprise Shepard saw Hannah standing beside him when he turned around. He hadn't noticed that she'd followed him into the room and was now listening curiously.

"Hannah is in here with me."

"Hi, uncle." The young asari said as she moved into the camera's cone of view.

"Hey kid. Man, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. " Joker's face lit up. "How's my favorite Shepard doing today?"

"Doing great." Hannah giggled softly. "I've been practicing in a simulator on the space port quite a lot lately. The instructor says I've been doing better than most professional pilots."

"That's my girl!" The former helmsman exclaimed with youthful glee, his problems momentarily forgotten. "You know, I've been keeping a spot in our pilot training program open for you so any time..."

"Joker!" Shepard snapped, glaring angrily at his old friend.

"Oh err..." The Admiral stammered lamely. "Sorry kid, but I gotta show your father something only he can see. So..."

"Oh, come on." The young asari pouted. "Why can't I...?"

"Hannah, please." Shepard said, shoving her gently towards the door. "We're wasting time here, young lady."

"Okay, Fine! I get it." Hannah huffed as she walked away, throwing her father an insulted look. Her sentiment as regards to being sent away couldn't have been more clear if 'spoilsport' had been tattooed into her forehead.

"You know, Joker." Shepard said pointedly after the door had closed. "I would appreciate it if you did your recruiting elsewhere. At least until we know more about what the hell happened to Cyra."

"Okay, okay." The old Normandy's pilot raised his hand in a defensive gesture. "But Hannah..."

"Just don't." The former Spectre growled. "Anyway what do you have to show me that only I can see?"

Joker looked really uncomfortable for a moment. "Lock the door first."

Shepard raised an eyebrow as he engaged the lock. "This is about my girl, right? 'Cause if it's not..."

"It is, it is." The admiral hastily confirmed. "You see, a few hours ago something happened that drastically changed the situation. That's when I learned about the operation on Horizon and Cyra's whereabouts. It's...how did you find out about that anyway?"

"I'm owed a lot of favors. Both, in citadel space and the terminus systems." Shepard replied calmly. "Besides, I only know that Cyra is on Horizon. As for the alliance operation: neither do I know anything about that nor do I want to. But please continue. I don't have all day."

"Right." Joker said, using a holographic keyboard to input a string of commands into his computer. "Here, I just sent you the unlock code for the lock-box."

He waited impatiently as his former CO tipped in the code on the box's small touchscreen. There was a barely audible click as it opened. Two OSDs fell into Shepard's hand when he turned the box upside down.

"Two OSDs?" The former Spectre asked. "It's that much data?"

"Nah, don't worry, the second contains a decryption protocol."

"Sealed lock-box, encrypted OSD...That data must really be hot."

"You have no idea." Joked snorted as Shepard put the OSDs into his computer's drives. "Sending you the key now."

* * *

"Clear." Sweetwater whispered, staring as the drone's camera feed in his HUD. He felt a little foolish, trying to be a silent as he could for just a few minutes ago, Haggard had blown a small hole into the manhole cover above them in order to get out of the sewers. The explosion hadn't been very loud but still the Private found it quite puzzling that nobody had come along to have a look.

Accompanied by some of his usual curses, Haggard pushed the manhole cover to the side , struggling to keep his balance on the flimsy looking ladder. After he'd taken another look around the demo-expert carefully stepped out of the smelly hole, beckoning the others to follow.

"Lively neighborhood." McCoy commented in a low voice as they slowly approached the target building.

"Yeah."

Empty streets, littered with all sorts of junk and burned down vehicles could be seen in every direction. Other than the abandoned precinct in front of them, none of the buildings in sight seemed to be inhabited. At least not as far as a quick thermal scan could tell.

"Let's just hope we're in the right place." Haggard said as they went along the side of the target structure.

"We're right where Shorty told us to go." Sweetwater replied instantly, quickly checking the city map, before going back to studying the building blueprints.

"You don't think that disgusting man lied to us, do you?" The medic asked, her pretty face twisting into a nauseated grimace behind her mask.

"He'd better not. For his sake." Haggard growled. He'd described what was going to happen in this case to the desk clerk in sufficient detail, that the little weasel had been shaking in fright.

"Whatever the case. Someone is in there." Sweetwater remarked dryly, pointing upwards. Somebody was playing music quite loudly on one of the upper floors. "Guess we know why no one came to check out the noise"

"Yeah, doesn't sound like they're worried too much about unwanted visitors." Haggard agreed pointedly. "But we just had to got through this godawful sewers, yeah, we absolutely had to."

"Stop whining, Hags." The tech grinned as he scanned a window for any kind of alarm system. "Give me a hand here instead."

"No not like that." Sweetwater added as the demo-expert pulled out a breaching charge. "We should be able to force it open if you help me."

"Oh."

* * *

Marcus Shepard didn't quite know what to feel as he looked at the high-rez pictures and listened to Joker's brief explanation. He'd heard about Little Omega of course. You'd have to be living under a rock not to. But he'd never payed too much attention to the stories and rumors that were going around about this place. He gave the pictures another look then shrugged indifferently. He'd seen too much death and destruction in his life to get all excited about something like this.

"So Little Omega has been destroyed." He said carefully. "But why did you go through the trouble sending me this data? And why did I have to send Hannah away? This is going to be all over the news soon enough."

"Sure." Joker replied with a grimace. "But, well, my tech wizards ran some simulations to try and determine the most likely cause of this devastation."

"And? Come on Joker just spit it out."

"It was probably an alliance weapon that destroyed Little Omega. A hellfire torpedo to be precise and that's not going to be on the news. At least I hope not."

"What?" Shepard stared at the screen in stunned disbelief. "Are you...How certain are you that an alliance weapon did this?" He asked after clearing his throat nosily.

"The computers gave it a better than eighty percent probability." Joker replied. "So, while we're not completely certain we have to assume it indeed was a hellfire that did this."

"This is difficult to fathom." The former Spectre stared at the picture one more time, briefly wondering how anybody could tell the reason of this destruction from the hole that had been blown into the moon.

"I find it hard to believe..." He interrupted himself as he remembered that he was in a bit of a hurry. "What has all that got to do with Cyra anyway?"

"Well." Joker said, scratching the back of his neck. "You see, hellfire torpedoes are strictly controlled. For obvious reasons. During peace time operations only a handful of ships carry them."

"Now." Joker made a dramatic pause before he continued. "We know where every single of those ships were and what they did during the last couple of days. Except..."

"Except the Wake Island." Shepard finished the sentence in the Admiral's stead.

"Bingo."

"As if things weren't screwed up enough already." The former Spectre had to restrain the urge to groan as he rubbed his forehead. "Well, the last few hours must have been pretty interesting then, hm?"

Joker expelled his breath with an explosive 'BAH'.

"To put it mildly. It's been a complete cluster-fuck, really." He growled snidely. "At least Fleet Admiral Volkov has certainly been in a much more cooperative mood lately."

"I bet he has." Shepard remarked dryly. "I suppose it was him that put Alliance Intelligence in charge of the ship?"

"Yep, and now his ass is on the line." Joker said with an evil grin.

"Do you think...?"

"...he knew this was going to happen?" This time it was Joker finishing the sentence the other man had started. "Nah I don't think so. Ol' Alexei can be a monumental asshole at times but approving the destruction of a colony? No I don't think he knew about that. If I had to guess, I'd say he's been screwed over by Director Fisher."

"Fisher hm?" Shepard said. "During the last few days I came across that name way too many times for my taste."

"Yeah me too. Anyway, for the Fleet Admiral it doesn't really make a difference." The former helmsman pointed out with a shrug. "In case anybody finds out, an alliance ship was responsible for the annihilation of Little Omega, he's pretty much done for and he knows it."

"Which brings us to Cyra." Joker said. "Volkov has agreed to launch a rescue mission to try and get her home. I suppose with things going haywire over here he didn't want you to come after him."

"That may still happen!" Shepard snapped heatedly.

Joker smirked but ignored his former CO's outburst otherwise. "I got an extraction team on the way to Horizon as we speak but you want to go yourself anyway, I suppose?"

"You betcha!"

"Right. Give me a minute." The former helmsman turned slightly to type a few commands into his computer. "I'll send you their comm-codes so you can contact them once you're there. And a copy of their personnel files so you know who you're dealing with."

"Okay, good." Shepard leaned back in his chair. "You sent an N7 team right?"

"No, I sent a couple of rookies, fresh out of basic training." Joker said, continuing quickly when the other man frowned. "Of course I sent an N7 team! Jesus Christ, Shep! Give me a little credit will ya?"

"Okay, okay. Sorry." As the ex Spectre raised his hands apologetically, a blinking light on his screen indicated the data had been received in full. He took a moment to transfer the data to his suit's computer fumbling with the interface a little bit.

"I better get going." He said as he started to rise from his chair. "I'd rather be gone before Shiala returns."

"What do you mean?"

"She'd want to go with me and I don't want to pull the rest of my family into this."Shepard said with a thin smile. "By the way, what are you going to do now?"

Joker sighed loudly. "I don't quite know yet to be honest. I don't have to tell you that this whole mess could potentially develop into a political disaster, do I?"

"No, not really."

"I sent a copy of the drone data to Kelly and I'm hoping she'll know how to handle this." The Admiral buried his face in his hands as he yawned widely. "Until she contacts me I guess I'll just sit tight and try to keep my people in check."

"How about you get some sleep?" Shepard suggested, concern about his old friends well being showing clearly on his face. "I mean, you really do look bloody awful."

"I'm sure there are enough people around here who'd claim I looked awful all the time." Joker sniggered softly. "But yeah, I actually may do that."

"Oh, before I forget, Shep." He added as he thought of something. "If you find Cyra..."

"WHEN I find Cyra!" Shepard interjected sharply.

"Of course, of course." Joker agreed hastily. "When you find her, bring her here as quickly as you can. I'll need to talk to her. The sooner the better."

"Okay, will do. See you then."

"Shep!" Joker's voice stopped the former Spectre as he was turning around to leave.

"Hm?"

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Shepard smiled. "Virmire out."

Lost in thought the aging human walked out of his study as the screen went dark behind him. He briefly glanced around but Hannah was nowhere to be seen. Perfect. Now he just had to...

"Where do you think you're going?"

Shepard cringed as his wife spoke up right behind him.

* * *

_'So far, so good.'_ Haggard thought as he watched Sweetwater work on a distribution node of the building's wired network. So far things had been going pretty well. They hadn't triggered any alarm, hadn't had any run-ins with angry mobsters or anything like that. Hell, if he hadn't heard the muffled music coming from upstairs he would have thought this place was deserted.

"Ah shit." The tech said as he closed the access panel and stood up.

"What?"

"That's what I was afraid." Sweetwater sighed as he switched off his omni-tool. "I can't access the security system from here. I'll need to go to the control room for that."

"I knew it couldn't be that easy." Haggard snorted sarcastically. "And in larger precincts like this it's usually on the top floor if I remember correctly."

"As a matter of fact it is but how do you know that?" The tech inquired curiously.

"Well, how do you?"

"I studied the structure's blueprints but you..."

"Never mind that now, all right?" The demo-expert interrupted his friend. "I'll tell you all about it. But right now, how about you find us a way to that room, Mister 'I-studied-the-blueprints'?"

"Working on it."

"A safe way preferably." Haggard added, wondering if he should give the structural drawings a look himself but decided he'd better stay alert in case somebody unexpectedly came around the corner.

It was a kind of a miracle that they hadn't run into anyone so far but that could change any moment. Although, judging from the layer of dust in this cellar he figured it wasn't very likely. Still, no need to get sloppy now.

"Okay" Sweetwater began, grabbing his machine gun. "Looks like the elevator shaft is the best way to get up there, at least if we want to avoid contact."

"The elevator shaft? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"The police files say that the elevator has been disabled when they gave up the precinct. So, yeah, I don't see a problem there."

"Fine, lead on."

"No need. There should be an old maintenance access door in here." The tech replied, looking around. "Ah, there is it."

Opening the small door without making too much noise proved to be a bit of a challenge. The hinges were badly corroded and made opening the door quite difficult and on top of that they also had the tendency to screech fairly loudly. Haggard had to bite his tongue in order not to yell in frustration. He instead restricted himself to swearing under his breath, as he used his combat knife to force open the door inch by inch, wishing he had oil or some other lubricant with him.

"There we go" Sweetwater said after they'd finally got it open far enough that a man, wearing armor could get through.

"Is something wrong, Hags?" The tech asked as he noticed his friend was wearily peeking through the small opening.

"I don't like the idea that all of us are climbing up the ladder at the same time." Haggard growled softly. "I mean, I know it's unlikely, but if we're getting spotted in there we'd be complete and total sitting ducks."

"Hmm, yeah." Sweetwater agreed thoughtfully. "Going up one at a time seems to be a better idea indeed."

"I'll go up first and check for cameras and such. Cover me."

"Sure thing."

Haggard leaned against the wall as the Tech, pistol in his right hand, started to ascend. Climbing a ladder in armor wasn't an easy thing to do and it took Sweetwater almost ten minutes to get to the top floor. The demo-expert watched his comrade going up until he disappeared behind the elevator cabin. He hoped that this thing had really been disabled. It was an eerie feeling to see that thing hanging above him.

"Sweets? What's up?" Haggard asked as he heard noises from above.

"Everything's fine." Sweetwater replied instantly but one could clearly hear some strain in his voice over the radio. "It's a bit tricky to get to the door is all. Stand by for a second."

There was some additional clattering then Haggard could hear the sound of an elevator door opening.

"Okay. I'm out." The private reported in a low voice a moment later. "Clear up here."

"Right. Coming up now."

"Nah, give me a moment. The control room is just around the corner." Sweetwater whispered. "Let me take a quick look."

"Hey, wait. Don't do anything stupid, will ya?"

The tech didn't answer and Haggard had to restrain the urge to call him again. Better to let him focus on whatever he was doing. The demo expert flinched, instantly bringing up his shotgun, when he heard what sounded like a muffled gunshot.

"What the hell was that?" He hissed. "Come on man, talk to me."

"Unlucky guy up here." Came the dry answer. "Anyway I'm in the control room now."

"You went in by yourself?" Haggard snapped staring upwards in cold rage. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Keep your pants on, Hags." Sweetwater replied calmly. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. End of Story. Now let me get to work all right? With a little luck you won't even have to climb up the bloody shaft."

"Get on with it!" The demo-expert spat through gritted teeth. To calm himself down he conjured up a mental image of himself, sticking a live grenade into the other man's underpants. Yet he was still fairly pissed when Sweetwater spoke up again.

"Hmm, that's weird."

"What?"

"So far I see only a handful of people around the entire compound." Sweetwater said. "From what we saw at the hotel I would have thought there to be a lot more people hanging around here."

"Ah shit, did that little asshole send us to the wrong place after all? I'm gonna tear..."

"Wait, no. " The tech broke in. "Just found Marlowe so we're definitely in the right place."

"Ain't that awesome." Haggard muttered sarcastically. "How's he doin'?"

"He's alive, if that's what you're asking. Looks like he's being interrogated at the moment and..." Sweetwater went silent for a few moments and Haggard was about to ask what was up when the tech continued.

"Who the hell are those guys?" He wondered aloud.

"What guys?"

"The two dudes interrogating Marlowe, they look like government agents or something like that." Sweetwater answered. "No way they are part of the gang."

"It's getting better all the time."Haggard growled. "What about the LT?"

"Didn't find her so far."

"Keep looking. Anyway do we climb up the shaft now or what?"

"Nah, I'll find you a better way. Hang on for a sec."

After remotely locking all the doors he could the tech directed his squad mates through the building, steering them away from the few men and women he saw on the cameras. At the same time he tried to get more of the surveillance equipment working, looking for the asari lieutenant. To his dismay with limited success.

"Found Shepard yet?" Haggard briefly interrupted his efforts.

"Nope, no luck so far."

"She was already taken someplace else?" McCoy interjected. The first thing she'd said in a while.

"Don't know." Sweetwater replied. "But I got a lot of red lights up here. There aren't cameras in every room and some aren't working properly. I'd guess she's probably still here."

"Maybe Marlowe knows something." Haggard suggested. "Let's get him out of there, shall we?"

"Right-o. You're pretty close to the interrogation room anyway."

"Any sign, somebody knows we're here?"

"Nothing."

A minute later Haggard and McCoy were taking up position on either side of the door Sweetwater had sent them to, checking their weapons once again.

"Okay" Haggard whispered. "I'll go in there. You stay out and cover my back."

"Will do." The medic replied. Her body language and the way she held her sub-machine gun indicated that she was nervous but also determined to do her job right.

"You can open the door remotely, right Sweets?"

"Yeah." Came the answer. "But Hags. Those guys in there look like they mean business. Better be careful."

"Noted." The demo-expert replied and fished a flash bang out of a small container on his belt.

"Ready?"

McCoy nodded jerkily.

"Sweets?"

"When you are."

Haggard clicked the safety off the grenade with his thumb, ready to throw it into the room as soon as the door opened.

"Showtime."


	17. Chapter 17

"Well, what do you think?" Henry Jones asked softly, throwing a quick glance at the tied up soldier through the glass that separated the two parts of the abandoned police station's interrogation room.

"Don't think he knows anything." His fellow agent answered with a shrug. "Can't be certain at this point of course but my guts says neither Shepard nor this Marlowe dude over there know anything about the data in question."

"Yeah I got the same feeling." Jones agreed. "Looks like that Private didn't cut them in on whatever he was doing."

The agent wearily rubbed his forehead. He was getting sick and tired of this miserable business. Sick and tired of having to stumble about the Terminus Systems' numerous gutters looking for answers to some imaginary threat. Tired of having to beat those answers out of some poor guy who just happened to work for the wrong people. Sick of having to deal with low life such as the gangers who scurried around this abandoned police precinct.

"Any progress on finding the other two guys?"

Jones shook his head. "Haven't heard anything yet. At least we don't have to do the leg work ourselves on this."

"All right." He said, suppressing a sigh. "Let's go back in there. One more hour or so then we'll have another shot at the Lieutenant."

He paused for a heartbeat. "And then we'll get rid of them."

"Right."

As he followed the other man through the automatic door, Jones allowed his mind to wander for a moment. He knew it was probably foolish to hope for such things but if he did a good job here and got some results, maybe he'd get out of here at last. Maybe a nice, cozy job as an analyst in the headquarter, hell, even a job in counter intelligence had to be a lot better than this. He might still have to poke around in some gutters then, but at least it would be council space gutters.

The two agents were about to resume the interrogation when Jones heard the door open. Who the hell? He'd told their third man to get some sleep half an hour ago. Did one of those gang punks have the nerve to interrupt them? He was absolutely not in the mood for that. He turned around, ready to shout at whomever came through the door but there was only a small, metal cylinder rolling on the floor.

The flash-bang went up before Jones could react. Overwhelmed by the violent eruption of light and sound the agent dropped to his knees. His eyes blinded, the ears ringing he automatically hit the emergency button hidden on his belt to alert his fellow agents. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes of the bright spots as he reached for his pistol. He froze as he looked up, his vision slowly coming back.

The last thing he saw was the muzzle of a shotgun, not a meter away, aimed at his head.

* * *

"Freeze asshole!" Haggard screamed at the second agent as Jones' headless corpse slowly fell to the side. "Don't fucking move! Put down the gun! Drop it you motherfucker!"

The other man, still partially deafened, evaluated his chances for a split second before he threw his pistol away, realizing that a close quarters firefight against an armored guy with a shotgun wasn't a good idea.

"There ya go. Now hands behind you head!" The demo expert commanded, keeping his sights on the agent, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest sign of him trying anything.

"Hey buddy." Haggard said, slowly moving in Marlowe's direction, after he'd had the agent kneeling down in a corner, facing the wall with his ankles crossed. "Are you okay?"

"I feel like my ear-drums have been blown out, but other than that I'm fine." The sniper replied with a cough. The smoke from the flash-bang irritated his respiratory tracts. "Never thought I'd be happy to see your ugly mug."

"Yeah I missed you too, bro." Haggard snorted, smirking behind his mask. He was about to move closer to his squad mate to have a look the straps that bound him to the chair when Sweetwater broke in over the radio.

"Guys, guys!" The tech's voice sounded urgent. "Just spotted a third one of those agent fellas on the cams."

"Ah shit." Haggard swore under his breath. "What direction is he coming from?"

"He's not coming your way." Sweetwater said quickly. "I got the feeling he might be going for the LT!"

"McCoy! Go get him!" Haggard shouted. "I got this dude here."

The medic hesitated for a heartbeat then she ran off, following Sweetwater's directions.

Looking at the kneeling agent, Haggard frowned. He'd rather not sent the young Asian after this fellow's friend all by herself. But what could he do? Thinking about it some more he figured it would have been better if she'd guarded this guy here and he'd gone after the other one himself. But he wasn't going to call her back now. They couldn't afford to waste time. At least, with Sweetwater's support she'd have the advantage of knowing where her opponent was.

"What about the other guys in the compound?" He asked.

"Well, they definitely know that something is up now." Sweetwater said. "But by the looks of it, they don't know what or where. Anyone of them coming your way will have to go through multiple locked doors so you should be clear for a while. However there could be more guys in parts of the building without cams."

"Right, so we better get going then." The demo expert pointed out the obvious before Sweetwater could. His eyes and his gun still fixed on the kneeling agent he walked closer to Marlowe.

"Let's get you out of here."

* * *

"Get out of there!"

Cyra cursed inwardly as she saw the agent standing in the door, pointing a pistol at her. She'd hoped one of the gangers to come and get her. One of them would have be much easier to deal with than the man shouting at her now.

"What's going on?" She asked as she slowly rose from the bed. She'd wondered what the muffled bang she'd heard a minute ago had been but more than wanting to know what was up, she was playing for time. Maybe she could get him angry enough that he did something stupid. She was aware that 'something stupid' might include shooting her but she figured it was unlikely as of yet. After all if he'd wanted to kill her he could have done it already.

"Get out!" He snarled, ignoring her question completely. "Move it bitch!"

She made no effort to hurry in any way as she walked to the door, eying the man carefully, looking for an opportunity to strike. Her arms were bound behind her back, yes, but she could do a lot of damage with her legs. All she needed was a little distraction, a moment of carelessness on his part.

Unfortunately he didn't do her such a favor as he ordered her to turn around upon exiting the cell. He grabbed her right arm from behind and jammed his pistol in the young asari's side as he pushed her through the hallway.

"What is going on?" She asked again, this time genuinely curious. Something out of the ordinary had to be happening. The guy behind her was way too tense for just escorting her to the next interrogation.

"Shut the fuck up!" He snapped and Cyra felt the pistol muzzle painfully dig into her flesh as he increased the pressure. "Do as I say and you may even live through the day. But give me..."

He stopped when an armored figure, holding a sub-machine gun, stepped out of the corner in front of them. For a moment time seemed to stop as the three people stared at one another. Then Cyra felt a wild joy rushing through her. The marine's visor was down, so she couldn't see her face. But the stature! The type of armor! The sub-machine gun! That had to be McCoy! Her people were coming for her!

It was then that the agent made the mistake, Cyra had been waiting for. Instead of taking cover behind the asari and pulling back he took the gun from her side and fired at the female marine who quickly took cover behind the corner. As he repeatedly pulled the trigger his hold of Cyra's arm weakened just enough that she was able to break free. The young asari whirled around, ramming her knee into the man's stomach. His light armor lessened the impact somewhat but still he groaned and writhed in pain.

Cyra's second kick struck his chest and threw him against the wall but her bound hands screwed up her balance, causing her to stumble against the opposite wall.

"Fucking bitch!" He rasped, shaking his head to clear it, as he came off the floor, going for the pistol he'd dropped.

It was a vain effort on his part however. Cyra gave up, trying to regain her equilibrium and dropped to the floor as she heard the report of McCoy's SMG. The agent staggered as he got hit several times, his light armor's barriers unable to deflect all of the incoming rounds.

"Stop!" The young Asian shouted. "Put down the gun!"

Badly wounded the man stubbornly held onto the pistol and tried to take another shot at the medic but McCoy's second burst brought him down, one of the bullets ripping his throat apart. He fell to the ground twitching uncontrolled for a few moments before he died, making an awful, gurgling sound.

The medic remained frozen in place, slowly lowering her sub-machine gun as she stared at the lifeless body. She shook her head when Cyra called her as if waking from a trance and jogged over to to help the Lieutenant to stand up.

"Goddess it's good to see you." The asari maiden exclaimed and wished she could have embraced the human woman. The stupid cuffs. "Where are the others?"

"Haggard is getting Marlowe out of some sort of interrogation..."

"Marlowe got captured too?" Cyra interjected quickly.

"You didn't know?" McCoy asked as she moved behind her squad leader to check the cuffs.

"No, I didn't." The young asari replied. She couldn't wait to get rid of the cuffs and that godawful anti-biotics device around her neck. "I suppose they separated us deliberately. How is he?"

"He seemed to be all right. But I'll examine him later to be sure. I'll have a look at both of you in fact." The Asian replied absently, listening to something being said on her suit radio. "Sweetwater says he's fine too and 'thanks for asking'." She added with a thin smile.

Cyra snickered softly. All of a sudden the universe seemed to be infinitely brighter than it had been a minute ago."I assume he's hacked into the security system and is watching us right now?"

"Something like that yes." McCoy said, hesitated for a moment then added: "Looks like the cuffs need an encrypted OSD to open."

"Go check his pockets." The Lieutenant said, nodding towards the corpse. "Maybe he has it on him."

"I was afraid you'd say that." The medic mumbled so softly that Cyra could barely understand her as she walked over to the fallen man.

The asari maiden was more than a little surprised when McCoy suddenly started talking to the dead agent as she checked his body.

"Why didn't you just do what I told you to? Hm?" She said, rummaging through the contents of his various pockets. "I mean what was it? Why didn't you just drop the gun?"

"Am I to short to be taken seriously? Did you think I was carrying only a toy gun or something? " McCoy's voice was getting louder and louder with each word. By the time she rose, an OSD in her hand, she was yelling at the corpse. "Or are you some sort of macho who doesn't listen to women?"

"God-dammit! If you'd just listened to me and had thrown that stupid pistol away you could still be alive right now you moron!" The medic screamed, angrily kicking the lifeless body several times.

"McCoy!" The medic flinched when Cyra called her. "Are you all right?"

A bit of a dumb question, really, Cyra thought, as it was fairly obvious that the young Asian wasn't.

"I'm fine." The medic nevertheless replied as he walked over. "It's just...I just...I guess I just needed to cool off. I mean, I..."

"It's okay, it's okay." Cyra tried to reassure the human woman. "We can talk about it later but right now, let's get out of here."

"Of course." McCoy stared at the small data storage device in her hand as if she was wondering how it had gotten there then hastily tried to open the cuffs but her shaking hands made it difficult to slide the OSD into the slot.

"Is something wrong?" The asari maiden asked after a few failed attempts.

"I can't get that stupid thing into the stupid slot." The medic hissed, her voice was strained with annoyance and she panted heavily, sweat pouring down her face. The young human, usually a calm and quiet person, seemed to be on the verge of cracking up.

"Hey, hey come on. It's okay." Cyra said, having to keep her own impatience in check. "Take it easy. Take a step back, close your eyes and take a few, deep breaths."

"But I..."

"Do it!" The asari Lieutenant commanded.

"We'll be fine." Cyra continued with, she hoped, a soothing voice as McCoy leaned against the wall and did how she was told. "We're going to get out of here and then we're going to get off this planet and back home. Okay? Everything is going to be fine. I just need you to focus now."

Even in her own ears that sounded awfully cheesy and Cyra knew perfectly well that things weren't that simple but for now it would have to do. Fortunately it did seem to work all right, however. The medic calmed down considerably and opened the cuffs easily when she tried it again.

Grateful to be able to move her arms properly again, the young asari briefly stretched. Then she ripped the anti-biotics necklace off her neck, threw in onto the ground and stomped on it a few times.

"Right, take us to the interrogation room." She said to the medic, when she was certain that the collar wasn't going to be of any use anymore. "Let's get going."

She followed the human, picking up the dead agent's pistol as they went by. She sighed in contentment as she put up a biotic barrier around her to protect her in case they ran into hostiles on the way. It just felt good to be able to fully use her skills and abilities again. She had to restrain the urge to randomly fling something around with her biotics.

This was not the time to get cocky, she reminded herself and which was proven when they ran into Haggard and Marlowe just a few moments later. While he was glad to see the men again she got a pretty good jump scare when they unexpectedly came around a corner.

"Hey, easy there LT!" Haggard grinned, as she lowered the gun. "We ain't the bad guys."

"Can't be careful enough around here." Cyra breathed a sigh of relief. "You guys are a sight for sore eyes. You really are."

"How are you doing, Ma'am?" Marlowe asked. He looked tired and a little disheveled, the asari maiden noticed.

"I'm fine. Or I will be once we get out of...wherever we are." She shrugged, giving the sniper a look of concern. "But you look like you could use a break. Did those agents give you a rough time?"

"Well, I'm feeling much better than ten minutes ago, I can tell you that for a fact." He replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Any idea who they worked for?" She asked.

"Not the slightest, no." The sniper said with a hard look on his face. "Sadly we didn't think we had the time to do some interrogating of our own."

"So you..."

"They won't be a problem anymore." Marlowe stated coldly.

"Anyway, our torture loving friends had a lot of useful stuff with them." He continued as he handed over a small comm-set, consisting of a small ear piece with integrated microphone and a base station about the size of her thumb.

"I already put in our codes. " Haggard broke in as Cyra clamped the base station to her pants. "Not as good as the stuff in our suits but it should do for now."

"Sweetwater, can you hear me?" The asari maiden asked after she'd switched on the set.

"Loud and clear, Ma'am. Good to hear your lovely voice again."

"Yeah I'm happy to hear yours again too, Casanova." She smiled as she heard the tech laugh, but quickly reminded herself that they weren't out of the woods yet. "Anyway, I'd rather not stick around here for much longer. Any suggestions on how to get out of here?"

As Cyra listened to the directions the private gave her, she used hand signs to order Haggard on point and McCoy to cover the rear. The four of them got moving before Sweetwater had finished.

"Right, we're on our way." She said to the tech after she'd made certain she'd properly memorized the way they had to take. "Do we have to expect any resistance on the way?"

"Negative. At least none that I can see at this time." Sweetwater replied at once. "However, there are large gaps in the building's vid coverage. Better be prepared for anything."

"Roger that." Cyra said. "Now you get your hump out of wherever you are and go to the rendezvous point yourself."

"Will do." The tech answered. "Give me a minute to overload the security system so they can't use it against us and then I'll be on my WAAAAHHH!"

"What was that?" The asari maiden snapped as she heard the private's startled scream. "Sweetwater check in! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" The tech sounded as if he'd just had the wind knocked out of him and in the background Cyra could clearly hear machine gun fire. "Just had a minor run-in with...someone. Got it under control. Nothing worth mentioning."

"What do you mean 'nothing worth mentioning'?" Cyra demanded. "I can hear shooting in the background! What the hell is going on up there?"

"Only an unwanted visitor I had to send away, really." Sweetwater replied nonchalantly. "I'm telling you, it's fine, ma'am. I'm pretty certain that person is not coming back again any time soon."

"It didn't sound that way on this end." The young asari said. "We're coming to you, give us directions."

"That's a negative." She heard him say. "I'm done up here anyway. On my way down now. Sweetwater out."

"Private!" Cyra hissed, but got no answer. "For crying out loud what is this guy doing?"

"I wouldn't worry too much, Lieutenant." Haggard remarked without turning his head. "Sweets may be a jackass at times, but he can take care of himself. If he says he got things under control he most likely does."

"He'd better!" The asari maiden growled, planning to have a word with the tech once they were out of harms way.

As Sweetwater had predicted, they didn't run into trouble on their way to the meeting point. Cyra impatiently stepped from one foot to the other as they waited for the tech. The waiting made her nervous and she was about to call the private on the radio again when she heard footsteps. Renewing her biotic barrier she whispered her people to be ready, in case someone other than Sweetwater came along.

"Oy, what happened to you, man?" Despite their situation, Haggard immediately started sniggering when it did turn out to be the tech, making these noises. Several pieces of his armor slipped slightly out of place, the private looked a little weird, almost comical in fact. If they hadn't been in enemy territory, Cyra might have laughed aloud.

"Nothing! Nothing at all." He replied, gesturing wildly. "Stop ogling, and give me a hand with this, dammit!"

The asari maiden frowned, wondering why Sweetwater so adamantly refused to tell them what had happened in the control room. It was almost as if he was embarrassed or something.

"I tripped and fell is all." He mumbled as his squad-mates proceeded to get him back into fighting shape.

"Oh bullshit." Haggard snorted. "As if..."

"Look, I told you, it was nothing okay?" Sweetwater growled. "Just one thing, Hags: If you see an elderly, gray haired woman about this tall..." He held his flat hand around one and a half meters above the ground. "...shoot her!"

"Wha...?"

"Don't ask! Just shoot her!"

* * *

Big M was pissed and, she had to admit it, still a little shaken from her encounter with the armored trooper. The soldier had recovered from the biotic attack much quicker than she'd expected. He'd fired his machine gun in her general direction before he'd hit the ground and only her old instincts, picked up during the galactic war, had saved her from getting riddled with bullets.

More than anything else, however the elderly woman was mad at herself. She knew she shouldn't have gotten involved with those secretive agent types but the money they'd promised had been too good. Well, that had just gone down the toilet. She'd tried to contact them after she'd heard a loud bang but none had answered. They were most likely dead by now.

But there was a silver lining in all of this. The Asian. Her research had confirmed what she had suspected. That girl was worth a lot of money. And she was here. She had to be. Big M shouted out a curse. It was a bitter irony that the marines, her boys were supposed to find, had come to this place on their own and now she hadn't enough people here to stop them from slipping away again. It was infuriating.

She had immediately told everybody to get their asses back here, but most were too far away to make it in time. She'd ordered her second-in-command to do what he could to delay them but she didn't expect it to make a difference. After all she hadn't even been able to tell him, where in the building they were. For a few moments Big M morosely walked around her room in circles. However her mood improved somewhat when she thought about the situation again.

Maybe she wasn't able to keep the marines from getting away now but as long as they were on the planet, she still had a chance to apprehend her prize. After all she had contacts all over the city and now it was time to use them for all they were worth.

She sure as hell wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that.

* * *

"_Constellation six-eight-zero, outbound route as requested, cleared take off pad three. Contact departure when clear of the atmosphere. Have a nice flight."_

"Cleared take off" Hannah Shepard smiled as she confirmed the clearance. "Thanks and have a nice day."

As she grasped the manual controls and increased the power of the ship's lift engines her smile widened considerably. She, of course, could have just punched an auto-take-off command into the computer and leaned back. No way! As far as she was concerned that wasn't the proper way do it. She wanted to fly herself! The auto-pilot had it's uses, yes, but letting it do take off and landing? Where was the fun in that?

A cloud of dust got kicked up, as the Constellation, a sleek, fifty meter long vessel, slowly lifted off. A hundred meters above the ground Hannah brought the main engines online. As always, the young asari was a somewhat miffed that she couldn't feel the acceleration when the picked up speed. She had considered, tinkering about with the ship's momentum dampeners so she could at least 'feel the ship' a little bit, but Citadel regulation strictly forbade any tampering.

Taking the craft along one of the mandatory routes, she flew horizontally for a few moments before she pulled up and pointed the ship at the stars. As the blue sky quickly darkened, eventually making way to the star filled void beyond, any ill thoughts she had towards the Citadel bureaucracy were swept away. Hannah sighed happily as she looked out of the cockpit's side windows, enjoying the breathtaking view of the planet once more.

This was where she belonged. In space, at the controls of a ship. Of course sitting in a fighter cockpit would be even better, she thought with a grin. The asari maiden had filled out the application for the alliance's pilot training program, but hadn't posted it yet. She'd wait with that until the situation with Cyra was resolved.

If thinking about her eldest sister hadn't brought her back to reality, the muffled noises, coming from the other side of the cockpit door would have. Hannah grimaced as she heard her parents arguing loudly. Her mother had been unhappy, to say the least, that dad had wanted to go to Horizon all by himself. The drive to the spaceport had been one single argument. It had actually gotten pretty tense in the sky-car. Fortunately for Hannah, the both of them had been so focused on their disagreement that neither of them had objected to her coming along.

The young asari engaged the auto-pilot after getting clearance to leave the planets inner control zone. She listened but couldn't hear anything at the moment. Either the argument had died down or it had entered a 'calm and rational' phase, Hannah mused.

"Ouch, guess neither." The maiden whispered to herself when she heard shouting again. The thick bulkhead prevented her from understanding everything that was being said, but from what she did hear, it seemed that her parents were using the same arguments, they had in the car, all over again.

"_...not going to apologize...trying to keep you out of this...it's a damn mess!...have enough to worry about already!"_

That was her father.

"_...you play white knight with me...look like a helpless maiden to you?...can take care...don't need protection from..."_

That was mom.

The shouting match behind the door continued for a few minutes then it seemed to die down. Hannah briefly had to focus on setting up and executing the FTL jump to the appropriate mass relay, then continued to listen. She raised from her seat when she didn't hear anything for a little while. They would remain at FTL speed for more than two hours during which there was little to do so the young asari figured she might as well go and check on her parents. The automatic door slid to the side automatically and Hannah stepped into a short, narrow passageway, walking by a toilet and a small kitchen as she headed towards the Ship's lounge.

"Hey G..." She started to say as she stepped into the luxuriously furnished room, stopped and stared at the scene before here with a wide open mouth.

Her parents were lying on one of the comfortable couches, kissing passionately, completely oblivious to their daughter's entry. The young asari hastily retreated back to the cockpit, rubbing her mouth as she let herself fall in the pilot seat. By the goddess what had happened? A minute ago they had been screaming bloody murder and now this? Not that she minded, of course, but she found it sort of embarrassing to stumble into the room as her parents were kissing and cuddling like love stricken human teenagers.

Fortunately both of them had been wearing armor, Hannah mused. The way her parents had been going at it, she might have walked in on an even more embarrassing scene otherwise.

"Ah well." She shrugged as she opened the ship's database, looking for a vid or a game she could pass the time with.

"Guess I'm stuck in here for the time being." The maiden grinned, as she leaned back in the comfortable chair.

* * *

Cyra had hard time believing it but at this time it looked like they were going to get away cleanly. According to Sweetwater they were nearing the back exit and so far no one had crossed their paths. It couldn't be that simple could it? Not with the luck she'd had during her brief career so far. Not that she was complaining or anything. Goddess no. Now that would be nice; if something actually went better than expected for a change.

_'Here we go.'_ She thought as she heard noise coming from around the corner but Haggard gave her the 'all clear' sign after peeking around the corner. As silently as they could the five marines made their way towards the exit, passing some indigenous insects, responsible for the noises they'd heard. Upon reaching the door, they halted briefly, checking for any sign of trouble outside.

Although they weren't to safety just yet, Cyra felt relieved when exited the abandoned police station. She took a deep breath, enjoying the cold, but clean air filling her lungs, then told her people to get going. The marines moved cautiously moved away from the building, always keeping close to cover. The farther away they got from the place of her captivity the better the asari maiden felt. The five of them kept away from the road, moving through the backyards of abandoned buildings. Once or twice, they heard skycars flying by but they didn't come close.

After a while Cyra turned around and threw a last look at the tall building, disappearing in the distance. She certainly wasn't going anywhere near this place ever again.


End file.
